


In the Black

by PaigeTurner



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alcoholic Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Beating, Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dark, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, It's not even really BDSM, M/M, Mutilation, Non-Canonical Character Death, Non-Consensual Knifeplay, Odin's Parenting, Oral Sex, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Pegging, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Redemption, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scars, Sexual Abuse, Vaginal Fisting, Vaginal Sex, Violent Sex, Warning: Loki, We call that stabbing, self destructive tendencies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:39:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeTurner/pseuds/PaigeTurner
Summary: Set five months post Iron Man 3 and using an alternate ending for that movie. Loki is stripped of his powers and set to Midgard to redeem himself. He must prove himself a changed man, to Clint in particular. Has he really changed? Both he and Natasha have red in their ledgers, will they help each other get back in the black?





	1. Chapter 1

A sound like the gates of hell creaking open echoed through the tower, shaking the foundations of the mighty building. The lights dimmed, then went out entirely.

“JARVIS?” Tony carefully laid his screwdriver on the workbench next to his empty glass.

Silence followed. Eerie, unnatural silence like the oppressive calm before a storm. Blood pounded in Tony’s ears, he felt his pulse rate rising. “JARVIS?”

No response. No hum of electricity. No drone of the HVAC system. Tony touched the arc reactor through his shirt; tightness mounted in his chest.

“Power outage?” Bruce asked quietly.

“The tower runs off the arc reactor.” Tony’s eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark, the only light available dimmed by the filter of his black t-shirt. “I’m just going to run downstairs and check on everything.”

Bruce nodded. “Do you want me to-”

“Stay here. If JARVIS is off-line, security is off-line.” He padded to the elevator and pushed the button. He stared at it a moment too long before realizing why nothing was happening.

“Fuck me.” He peeled off his shirt rather than scavenging for a flashlight. The cool, blue glow from his chest was just enough to ensure he wouldn’t fall and break his neck as he started down the stairs. “Mother fucking penthouse workshop, power goes out, you gotta go down the fucking stairs to the damned basement.” He was still muttering when he heard the door open on the landing below him. “Shit.” He covered the arc reactor with the balled-up shirt and tried to breathe as quietly as possible.

A few barely audible footsteps drifted through the still air, followed by the creak and click of the door closing. Tony mouthed a litany of colorful profanity without sound while he tried to remember how many flights he’d gone down. He uncovered the arc reactor. “Barton?”

“Stark?” Clint’s familiar voice called back. “Christ, man, I almost shot you.”

“You’re armed?” Stupid question. Tony flinched as soon as he’d asked. “Hey, go up and keep Bruce calm while I sort this out.”

“I figured when JARVIS didn’t answer there was some kind of security breach.” He shielded his eyes from the glare of the arc reactor as he passed Tony. “You want backup? I could wake the others.”

Tony shook his head. “Let them sleep. It’s probably just a little glitch with the reactor. Just in case it isn’t, I want you upstairs.”

Clint nodded. “Watch your back.”

Tony lingered at the landing until he heard the door to his floor open above him. He resumed grumbling profanity as he descended. His knees ached. He missed one step and nearly fell to his death. He caught the railing, panting. “Shit. Shit. Oh. Shit.” He pulled himself to his feet. Looking over his shoulder, Tony glared at the stairs. “I made you.” He ran his hand over his hair and started down again.

At the entrance to the utility room he froze. There were voices coming from inside.

“Shh, shh, just hold on.” There was no mistaking the deep timbre of Thor’s voice. “Everything will be alright.”

“It’s dark.” The second voice, also male, was unsettlingly familiar, but Tony couldn’t quite place it.

“I know,” Thor whispered.

“I’m cold.”

“Everything will be alright.”

Tony slowly opened the door. “Thor?”

The thunder god knelt next to the arc reactor, a large bundle of black, white, and red rags in his arms. He looked up at Tony with wet eyes. “Friend Stark.”

He began to stand and the parcel in his arms shifted. A pale face became visible.

“Is that Loki?” Tony took an involuntary step back.

“Please, I need your help.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He held out one hand to keep Thor at bay. Tony entered the room cautiously, edging past Thor to check the fuse box. He had trouble tearing his eyes off Loki long enough to look inside. “Main breaker,” he muttered distractedly, flipping it back into position. The tower hummed to life. “JARVIS? You up?”

“Checking system functions, sir.”

Tony nodded and turned his focus back to Thor. “You said something about needing me?”

“He needs medical attention, please, I will explain everything, but first, please, a doctor. A bed.”

“JARVIS?”

“Everything is in order, sir.”

“It’s good to hear your voice. Elevators?”

“Fully functional, sir.”

Tony sighed. “Thank you. Have Banner meet me in the infirmary, see if you can find a doctor somewhere in this city who’s awake.” He leveled his gaze at Thor. “You owe me big time. Come on.” He led the way to the elevator. The lighting was less than flattering, but Tony didn’t think the elevator was to blame for the fact that Loki looked absolutely terrible. He was paler than usual, with a waxy, grey-ish cast to skin that was covered in blood and bruises. He seemed almost conscious, shuddering in his brother’s arms. His eyelids fluttered. Shallow breaths shook his frame.

Bruce’s eyes widened as the elevator opened. “I was not expecting that.”

“Same.” Tony smiled weakly. “JARVIS, what’s the status on a doctor?”

“Palmer, Christine, MD. I’ve sent Mr. Hogan to collect her.”

Thor lowered his brother onto a bed.

“I guess I can start checking his vitals.” Bruce turned to the sink to wash his hands.

“I know this is not your area of expertise.” Thor hovered over Loki, still holding his brother’s cold and pale hand.

“I’ll do my best.”

Tony poured himself a drink, leading Bruce to wonder if the billionaire had liquor stashed in every room of the tower. “Thor, you want one?”

Thor shook his head, stepping back to allow Bruce access to Loki. Dr. Banner worked with a subtle frown etched into his face.

“This had better be important.”

Tony looked up. “Dr. Palmer, I presume.”

“Yeah. Where’s the patient?”

“It is very important,” Tony assured her. “It also pays very well. Unless you tell someone about it.” He glanced past her to Happy. “Everything kosher, Happy?”

“I signed the NDA, if that’s what you’re asking. The patient?” She stared Tony down.

Happy nodded, waving a manila folder at his boss. 

"Over here." Tony gestured to the gurney.

Bruce stepped back and allowed her to take over. He shuffled over to stand with Tony and Thor. “Now what?”

“We need to get everyone in here.” Tony pursed his lips, giving Thor a somber look. “I’ll get Clint. Bruce, you wanna wake Steve and Natasha?”

***

“What is that?” Clint asked coldly, staring at the frail figure.

Natasha put a hand on his arm.

“Allow me to explain,” Thor began. “Then I will gladly answer all questions.” He sighed heavily. “When Loki returned to Asgard, he was punished severely for his deeds in your realm. It was only recently that the All-Father was persuaded, largely by our mother, to grant him a reprieve. He has been stripped of all power: his magicks, his immortality, his strength; and banished here to make amends.” Thor looked over at his brother worriedly. “I thought perhaps here, among my friends, he would have the best opportunity to atone.”

“No,” Clint said immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Let’s not make any decisions right away,” Steve cautioned.He inched closer to the bed, craning his neck for a better look at Loki’s face. Even at rest, it was pinched with pain.

“He’s been tortured,” Natasha whispered, her brow furrowed.

“He was punished,” Thor corrected gently.

Tony’s face contorted with disgust.  Bruce shifted uncomfortably, drawing a deep breath and clenching and unclenching his hands. A flash of cold fury darkened Natasha’s eyes. Thor elected not to pursue the matter.

“Were there any specifics on this atoning that’s supposed to be going on?” Bruce asked.

Thor shook his head. “To learn humility, to serve those that he sought to subjugate, to mend the damaged relationship between our realm and yours, to be honest, I’m not entirely sure what Father expects, except for Loki to fail.”

“Grade A parenting,” Tony muttered.

“Well, if he’s banished here, then sending him back to Asgard is out of the question,” Steve said.

“If this is Odin’s idea of how to punish his son, I’d say sending him back to Asgard is out anyway,” Tony retorted.

“Is he dangerous?” Bruce asked, keeping a careful distance from the bed.

Clint looked at them wide-eyed. “You’re really considering letting him stay here?”

“We could lock him up somewhere,” Steve suggested.

“The tower is not, and will not be, a place to keep prisoners,” Tony said firmly.

Thor opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted before he could make a sound.

“There’s always SHIELD,” Natasha said. “He didn’t escape without help last time.”

“I don’t really trust Fury with him, no offense,” Tony objected.

“You don’t trust Fury with anything,” Clint snapped.

“Should I?” Tony quirked an eyebrow at the archer.

“Fury will find out that he’s here,” Natasha said calmly. She gave Clint’s arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s only a matter of when and how. We’d be better served telling him, even if we have no intentions of turning Loki over.”

“What makes you think Fury won’t just take what he wants?” Bruce asked.

“Stark and Rhodes still have the only two sets of Iron Man armor,” Natasha answered. “Steve’s not in a lab. You’re not in a cage.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “You’re not making a real strong case for SHIELD here.” His voice held a hint of a growl.

Clint gave Loki a long look. “He’s mortal, you said.”

Thor nodded. “Yes, no different than any other Midgardian. And not--”

Clint pursed his lips. “We could kill him.”

“Barton!” Tony’s coffee sloshed over his hand.

“No.” Bruce shook his head.

“Absolutely not.” Steve brought his shoulders back, lifting his head proudly. “We’re not executioners.”

“Dangerous. He’s not dangerous.” Thor stepped between the archer and the bed.

“Look, it’s not an ideal situation,” Steve rationalized. “But of all the options we’ve laid out, the one that makes me the least uncomfortable is to let him stay here. Maybe we could be a good example for him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Clint looked at him in disbelief.

“Killing him, caging him, handing him over to Fury who’ll do God knows what with him--” Bruce shook his head. “At least we can keep an eye on him here.”

“You guys are seriously considering this?” He looked around the room slack jawed.

“I brought him up to the infirmary. I called for Dr. Palmer.” Tony shrugged. “In for a penny and all that.”

“Nat, help me talk some sense into these guys.” Clint looked at Natasha expectantly.

She hadn’t taken her eyes off Loki. His sunken eyes. His white lips. The way his face twitched and contorted as he slept.

“Come on, Tasha. He’s a monster.”

“He’s just a man,” she replied. Her voice soft and distant.

“He killed 80 people in two days, remember that? No matter what Thor says, he is dangerous.”

“So am I.” Natasha met Clint’s gaze at last.

Clint’s face fell. “You’re different.”

“Because you treated me differently.” She looked at Loki again. “No one has more blood on their hands than I do. Fury wanted me put down.”

“He’s not you, there’s no good in him,” Clint’s voice rose in anger and frustration. “No hope for him.”

“You don’t know that,” Thor interjected. “We were children together, he’s not evil. Not a monster, I swear it. He is my brother; there is good in him. Please.”

“What about Coulson?” Clint’s nostrils flared, his gaze shot to each of them in turn. “Am I the only one who remembers him? What that did to him?” He spat out the word ‘that’, stabbing his finger through the air to point accusingly at Loki.

Thor sighed softly. Tony looked at the floor. Steve looked at the ceiling. Bruce took off his glasses and cleaned the lenses with his shirt tail.

Natasha grimaced; she closed her eyes tightly, and they shone wetly when she opened them to speak. “We’ve both killed good men.”

Clint shook his head. He pulled his arm out of Natasha’s grasp brusquely, and stomped out of the infirmary.

“That went well,” Tony muttered sarcastically.

“He’s not wrong about Phil.” Natasha’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“But he’s wrong about Loki.” Thor’s shoulders sagged.

She looked up at him and tipped her head slightly. “That remains to be seen.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's new life begins

The all-encompassing agony that had marked Loki’s existence since his return to Asgard receded. The pain resolved into an unpleasant ache, a metallic taste around his teeth. The chill slowly dissipated from his bones. He felt as though he were floating, drifting through shallow waters, sodden, heavy. Dimly, he heard voices. At first, it was only his brother.

Then another voice – all too familiar said, “No. Absolutely not.

“He’s been tortured.” There was something familiar about this voice as well.

Loki drifted.

“Humility, to serve…”

They were talking about him. Loki struggled, fought upstream.

“Lock him up…”

He couldn’t force himself out of the strange heaviness that had settled, not only in his limbs, but in his mind. The voices seemed to overlap and blend together.

“We could kill him.”

He was helpless. Exhaustion kept pulling him under; he couldn't follow what was going on around him. 

“He’s just a man.”

He could vaguely sense someone moving over him. He felt an occasional light touch. Fingers he couldn’t brush off. 

“He is my brother, there is good in him. Please.”

The current swept him away. The voices faded into the distance. He slept.

***

Loki opened his heavy eyes. He was on a narrow, firm, white bed with metal rails on the sides. His body was tucked beneath crisp, white sheets. Beeping machines drooped wires and tubes down around him, reaching into his flesh. His hand nearly matched the sheet. If this was some new form of torture, the pain had yet to begin. His limbs were heavy with exhaustion, even the thought of moving was too much effort. Thor slept in a similar looking bed a few feet away, minus the machinery. At rest, his brother looked exactly as he had as a child. His face was lax and innocent, his dreams untroubled.

The place was strange but, stranger still, there was something familiar in the architecture and the sleek décor. He stared at the clock on the wall across from him until it clicked into place, which, according to said clock, took about three hours. 

“STARK,” the neat, slate grey font just above the six spelled out.

“Oh, brother.”

***

He spent most of the first two days drifting between asleep and awake. He was quite certain this entire experience was a dream, the delusion of his troubled mind. He saw only the doctor -- an irritable, energetic woman -- and his brother. 

On the third day, he woke with fewer tubes running in and out of his body. Thor brought him a bowl of lukewarm broth and humiliatingly spoon-fed him. 

On the fourth day, he managed to wrest the spoon from Thor’s grasp and feed himself the broth. He only spilled half of it onto the bed. Thor stripped away the wet sheet and tucked a fresh one over him. 

Thor left only to shower and prepare Loki’s meals and spent the remainder of his time in Loki’s company. He sat at his bedside with wounded, worried eyes and spoke in a soft voice about everything Loki would have to do to redeem himself. The trickster was ready to strangle him. 

By the eighth day, Loki was strong enough to stand and, with a walker, shuffle to the bathroom.

On the twelfth day, he had visitors. Stark arrived just after lunch, with Captain Rogers in tow.

“Loki.” Stark tipped his martini glass toward Loki as though toasting him.

“Stark. Rogers,” Loki replied.

“Sir,” Steve acknowledged him with a nod, formal but not cold. 

Loki slitted his eyes at them.

“So, Dr. Palmer says you’re well enough to leave the infirmary,” Tony remarked.

Loki’s expression relaxed; upon reflection, both the pain and the overwhelming weakness permeating his bones were gone. He hadn’t even missed the feeling. “I do feel considerably better.” 

“You’re welcome. Anyway, you’ve got a decision to make. You can strike out on your own. Get, you know, a job and an apartment and all that. Live your life.” Stark shrugged and sipped his drink. 

“Or?” Loki prompted. It was only polite to play into Stark’s obviously pre-planned script.

“You could turn yourself over to SHIELD, I’m sure Fury’d be happy to find a place for you.” Tony glanced at Steve, barely repressing a snicker at the thought. 

Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly.

Loki frowned. “Or?”

Tony cleared this throat and returned his focus to the matter at hand. “Or I can set you up with an apartment here in the tower.”

And there was the bottom line. “And what is that contingent upon?” Loki asked with a smirk.

“No killing, maiming, or mind-controlling any of the other residents of the tower,” Tony replied.

“Or any innocent person,” Steve interjected.

Loki suppressed a chuckle, coughing instead. “Is that all?” 

“Well,” Tony fumbled a little, “no smoking, um, in the tower. And if you eat the last of something, you have to replace it. And there are security protocols. At first, you’d only be allowed on your own floor and on the common recreation floor. That’s where we do team meals and movie nights. But, you know, if you prove we can trust you, you’d be granted access to the gym, the range, and the pool.”

A pool. Was he meant to be impressed? “And what must I do to prove myself?” Loki inquired.

Captain Rogers cleared his throat. “We thought, since you’re supposed to be atoning, maybe you could join the team on some of our missions. Get out there and help people. We’d get you some training first, of course.”

“Training?” He cocked his head at the pair.

“For combat,” Steve said. “Your fighting style was predominantly based off your magic; Thor said you don’t have that anymore, so you’ll need to learn some new tricks.”

Loki looked from Steve to Tony. He glanced at Thor, sitting quietly on the bed across from him. “You’re really serious about this?”

“You’ve got options,” Tony said coolly. “Think it over.”

“I’ll do it.”

***

“Why am I here?” Loki demanded when he entered the lab. Tony had summoned him via the infernal voice-from-everywhere-and-nowhere.

“I thought we’d talk weapons and armor. I mean, you don’t plan on fighting the forces of evil in jeans and a t-shirt, right?” Tony replied, barely looking up from the schematics at his fingertips.

Loki looked down at his clothing, his brow furrowed. “I mean the tower. You could’ve cast me out in the streets and been well justified in it,” he said. “I tried to kill you. I led an army against your world.”

“Thor says you’ve paid for your sins,” Tony shrugged. He put down his stylus and picked up a coffee mug. “You really want to know why I, personally, didn’t tell your brother to fuck right the hell off? You’re not going to like it.” 

“Yes, I want to know.” One corner of Loki’s mouth twisted up into a smirk.

Tony shook his head and sipped from the mug. He scowled. “JARVIS? How much coffee is in this coffee?”

“About half the cup, sir.”

Tony grunted. He picked up a bottle of whiskey from the lower shelf of his workbench and added a generous glug to the cup. “You want any?”

“Tell me why.” His intense gaze flickered from Tony’s face to the bottle. “Yes. Yes,” he smiled. They were alone in the lab. “I’ll have that drink now.”

“It was pity. You want coffee in this?” Tony poured 35 ml of whiskey into a glass beaker.

“No, thank you.” He took the beaker from Tony and sipped. The liquor burned down his throat; warmth blossomed in his belly. “It’s as simple as that, then? You all felt sorry for the poor, defanged snake, and decided to take me under your wing?”

“Not all of us,” Tony shrugged. “Actually, I wouldn’t presume to speak for any of the others. Me, though, I saw an injured, helpless, and beaten man.” He sipped his coffee and stared into it like a magic 8 ball. “I like fixing broken things, no offense intended.”

“Broken things?” He spat out the word from behind clenched teeth. His fingers tightened around the beaker.  “And you expect I won’t be offended by that description?” Loki drank a little deeper. “I was wounded, yes. Humiliated, certainly. But I am not a broken thing.” He drained the glass container and set it on the workbench forcefully, willing Tony to meet his eyes.

“Ah. Sorry. My bad.” He looked up at his guest with bloodshot eyes. “I am.”

Loki felt the edge of his anger crest and collapse within him. His brow furrowed in a frown. He picked up the beaker, holding it out to Tony. “I’d like a bit of coffee in it this time around.”

***

Loki returned to the lab the next day. And the day after that. He spent long hours helping Tony develop a suitable weapon and discovering that not only did he enjoy Tony’s company far more than he would ever let on, but that Bruce’s soft spoken demeanor masked a delightful, if self-deprecating, sense of humor. 

Loki’s favorite thing about the lab was that Thor never visited. 

“There you are. JARVIS said you were up here.” Steve smiled broadly. “Time to step up your training. Meet me in the gym tomorrow at dawn.”

Loki looked at Bruce and Tony. “Dawn?” 

“Sunrise. Around six am this time of year.” Steve’s smile didn’t falter. 

“I know what dawn is,” Loki huffed. “That’s when I go to bed.”

“You might want to go to bed earlier.” Steve left with a spring in his step.

***

“This is a treadmill.” Steve touched a button on the machine. “We’ll start slow.”

Three times a week, Loki met with Steve in the gym first thing in the morning. He worked his way up the levels of the treadmill. He lifted weights, and threw hesitant punches at a heavy bag; Loki mastered push-ups and sit-ups and pull-ups and left the gym exhausted, aching, and stinking of sweat but stronger. Every day he felt stronger. 

He began looking forward to his morning trips to the gym. Not as much as his time in the lab, but looking forward to it nonetheless. The captain was a bit stiff and formal, and he was good in many of the same ways that Thor was good, but Loki developed a tolerance for him.

***

“Have you ever considered green and gold instead of red and gold?” Loki ran one finger over a piece of armor laying on the workbench.

Bruce snickered. Tony glowered. 

“I am not making you a suit.”

“I’m not asking you to make me a suit,” Loki replied. He sneered at the idea. “Your armor is hideous.” He tilted his head at a haughty angle. “I’m asking you to wear my colors. Fly my banner, as it were.” He glanced at Bruce as he name-dropped the doctor. 

Bruce put his hand over his mouth to hide his grin.

“This is what you guys do on a Sunday morning?”

“Romanov.” Tony jumped to his feet, sending his glass wobbling. He steadied it and took a long sip of the amber liquid, as though he’d grabbed it just for that purpose. “What are you doing here?”

“Relax. I was headed down to the range, I thought maybe our guest would like to join me.” She looked at Loki expectantly.

“Range?” He looked to Tony and Bruce.

“Weapons. I suppose you should be familiar with a variety of options before we nail down something specifically for you.” Tony shrugged. He smiled at Natasha. “You can borrow him.”

Natasha tipped her head toward the door. Loki followed her to the elevator. 

“Other than a mystical staff that controls people’s minds, what weapons have you used?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Knife, spear, quarterstaff, other polearms, axe, mace.... I was well trained in the standard weapons. I prefer my way.”

“Standard for Asgard,” Natasha replied. “And your way isn’t an option now. Ever fire a gun?”

He shook his head.

At the range, she showed him how to load a small pistol, like the ones she usually carried in combat. “This is live ammunition, so don’t shoot me.” She held out a pair of clear plastic glasses and a set of headphones. “Put these on.”

She adjusted his grip and his stance, moving beside and behind him, touching his arms, his legs, even putting one finger on his chin as she arranged him into position. At her nod, he squinted at the target and pulled the trigger. 

Natasha looked unimpressed when Loki opened his eyes.

“This is going to take a while.”

***

“It’s plugged in, and the power is on.” Steve frowned at the coffee maker. “So, just put your cup here and--” 

The machine beeped. He pressed a button. It beeped again.

“It sounds angry,” Loki observed.

“It needs water.” 

Barton’s voice made Loki jump. Instantly, his nerves danced. He spun to face the archer. 

“So,” Clint said.

“So.” Loki looked him up and down.

“I guess Rogers has all of your fitness needs taken care, and Stark and Banner are building you some sort of defense and offense tech. Someone stole my specialty, which as you know is ranged combat. That leaves hand to hand.”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Natasha didn’t look up from the crossword puzzle. “I assumed, as did we all, that you wouldn’t want to be involved.”

“Well I do,” Clint snapped. “Close quarters combat. Meet me in the gym in an hour. Be prepared for an education.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flirting. With Disaster.

Clint and Loki were never alone. They pretended not to notice Bruce practicing yoga while Clint drilled footwork; Steve on the treadmill while they practiced punches and elbow strikes with the heavy bag; Natasha taking over the bag as they covered blocking, dodging, deflecting and redirecting; Thor lifting weights, of all the absurd things, while they kicked and kneed the bag.

Clint never spoke to Loki as a friend. It was only “Hands up. Keep your elbows in. Don’t drop your head, you’re telegraphing.” It was an education. There was never a word about what had transpired before.

Two months had slipped by since his arrival, and Loki’s life was full of people in a way he’d never before known. People who, with the exception of Clint and of course Jane, didn’t seem to favor his brother. People like Steve, trying and failing to teach him how to use the coffee maker. People like Darcy, trying and succeeding to teach him to use the PlayStation and X-Box. Even JARVIS, surprisingly and surreptitiously allowing Loki to get the upper hand in an ever-escalating prank war with Tony and Dum-E.

There were team dinners, team breakfasts, and team movie nights. Loki was always invited. Included. Welcomed. 

The roof of the tower opened up, allowing the sun to warm the sky-high pool. Loki squinted, fumbling on a pair of sunglasses. The golden light glinted hypnotically off the rippling water. Steve followed him onto the roof, a frown forming on his brow. The captain scanned the rooftop and stalked over to Darcy, sunning herself next to Jane.

“This is not what guys wear to swim now days,” Steve hissed. He snatched a towel off one of the lounge chairs and wrapped it over the tiny cobalt swimsuit she’d given him.

“It should be,” Darcy replied. “Can I put some sunscreen on you?”

“This is embarrassing.” Steve’s cheeks were reddening, and it wasn’t the sun.

Jane rolled her eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Speaking of…” she trailed off as Thor joined them. He was also wearing a rather undersized suit, in the form of crimson briefs. 

“Captain.” He patted Steve on the shoulder. 

“I’m not convinced Asgardians are capable of feeling self-conscious.” Steve glowered at Darcy.

Jane was busy applying sunscreen to Thor’s broad shoulders. “You look fine. Relax and enjoy the party.”

Steve huffed out a sigh. “I’m going to hide behind the grill and help Bruce cook.” He kept the towel.

“You should take her up on that sunscreen thing, Rogers,” Natasha advised. “You’re mostly Irish, I bet you burn.”

“I’m actually going to go in and put a shirt on,” Steve muttered.

“It’s just us, no reason to be uncomfortable,” Bruce said with a gentle smile.

“Says the guy in a t-shirt and cargo shorts.”

Bruce shrugged. “I’m comfortable.”

Loki had shrank from his brother’s path; he lingered near the grill. Only he and Dr. Banner had opted for casual clothing rather than swimwear. “You don’t swim?” Loki guessed, shying closer to Bruce.

“He’s self conscious about his love handles.” Tony pinched Bruce’s side.

“Hey.” Bruce shook his finger at Tony. “Don’t make me angry,” he warned, but his mouth stretched into a broad smile.

Stark wore a loudly patterned shirt featuring parrots and palm trees, open in the front to display the arc reactor, red trunks that matched the feathers of the birds on his shirt. Scars, like the rays of the sun, sprayed from the reactor at the center. Loki tugged at the hem of his own shirt. It was more than long enough to cover his scars. 

Darcy wore a scandalously small bikini, white stars on a blue field covered one breast, the rest of the fabric was red and white striped horizontally. A likeness of the American flag. Loki’s gaze drifted from Darcy to the furiously blushing Captain America. 

“Help yourself to a beer.” Tony patted Bruce’s shoulders as he slipped behind him to make his way to the bar, his voice rousing Loki from his musings.

Loki opened the fridge and stared.

“Or there’s wine,” Tony remarked, noticing his hesitation. “Or, ooh! Ooh! I could make you cocktail.” He smirked. “What’ll it be? Jack and coke? Rum and coke? Martini?” Tony paused, his smirk growing more mischievous. “Blowjob?”

“What?” Loki sputtered, turning away from the refrigerator.

“Slippery nipple? Screaming orgasm?” Tony continued, watching with delight as Loki’s face reddened.

“Sex on the beach?” Bruce suggested.

“Good one,” Tony replied. “Natasha? What do you think?”

“Well….” Natasha leaned across the bar on tiptoe, the tops of her breasts straining against the plunging neckline of an otherwise modest black one-piece; she reached into a candy dish and plucked out a sucker. “I don’t know about Loki,” she mused as she unwrapped it. “But,” she locked eyes with the trickster. “I enjoy an occasional Sloe Comfortable Screw.” She slipped the bright red candy between her lips, swirled it once in her mouth and pulled it out with an audible pop. A wide brimmed hat framed her face like a black halo.

“Noted.” Loki stared. 

“Hot,” Darcy whispered reverently.

“We can get more of those suckers,” Tony offered.

She put it back in her mouth and turned toward the grill. “Mmm-hmm.”

“As many as you want. Any flavor,” Tony continued.

Thor leaned over to Jane. “Would you like one of those?” 

She snickered and elbowed him. “Maybe later.”

“Those were all drinks, right?” Loki half-whispered to Steve.

Steve nodded mutely, his cheeks bright pink.

“Let’s just get you set up with a martini, that’s what I’m having.” Tony turned his attention back to the bottles of liquor in front of him. “Rogers?”

“No thanks.” Steve shifted his weight and adjusted the towel.

Natasha touched him on the arm. “Your suit is fine. Get wet.”  She gestured toward the pool. 

“I don’t actually like swimming,” he confessed. “Besides, some of the other guys have shirts on. I’m going to get dressed.”

She nodded and shooed him inside. 

“Banner, did you get that thing we talked about?” Natasha asked. 

Bruce glanced at the door and chuckled with a crease between his brows. “I thought you were a super spy. Yes I got that thing.”

“Where is it?” She tucked the sucker into her cheek as she spoke.

“My apartment. I’ll get it when it’s time. Don’t worry.”

Steve came back out in shorts and a t-shirt.

Clint lounged on an inflatable float shaped like a slice of pizza. His purple and white floral board shorts slowly dried as he drifted in the sun. Thor jumped into the pool, splashing Jane and Darcy and nearly capsizing Clint. Natasha settled at the edge of the pool with a drink in one hand, dipping her feet into the water. Clint paddled over. 

“Don’t even think it, Barton.”

He let his hand drop back into the water. “You’re no fun.” He pouted. 

“I straightened my hair for this.” She put one foot on the edge of his float. A gentle shove sent him drifting toward the middle of the pool.

“I hope a bird craps on you!” Clint yelled as he floated away.

The abundant variety of foods reminded Loki of the feasts of Asgard, as did the freely flowing liquor. There was mirth and laughter. As the sun went down, Bruce brought out a cake with ninety-five candles. 

“On three,” Tony prompted. “One, two, Happy Birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Capsicle.”

The song devolved into chaos as each of them filled in their own nickname for Steve. 

Steve shook his head. He huffed and puffed, smiling all the while.

Natasha held up a fire extinguisher.

“Laughing isn’t making this any easier,” Steve complained. Everyone circled around to blow out the candles.

“Who’s ready for fireworks?” Tony crowed.

***

Clint was in the gym, warming up on a speed bag, when Loki got there. Natasha was using the open floor space where Bruce usually did his yoga. There was a wooden railing attached to one wall, and she stood beside it, focused and calm. Loki paused a moment to watch as she turned her toes outward, slowly bent her knees, lifted one hand above her head, holding a graceful curve in her arm. She rose up on her toes and straightened her legs. Her body was comprised of elegant curves that could bring a man to his knees. The tops of her shoulders were faintly pink at the edges.

Loki turned away; he jogged in place to warm his muscles. “Ready when you are,” he announced after a few minutes.

“Alright, sparring,” Clint replied, gesturing to the ring. They started slowly, as usual, testing each other out. A feint, a jab, a block and nothing more. Loki started to fall into the rhythm. Out of nowhere, Clint connected hard. His fist struck across Loki’s cheek and he stumbled back, dazed. Then his feet were swept out from beneath him. Loki hit the mats, stars swam before his eyes, and Clint loomed over him, raining down blows.

“Clint!” Natasha’s voice seemed to come from miles away. “Clint, that’s enough!”

Tension wrapped around his chest, squeezing his heart. His mind drifted back, and it was Odin above him. It was pain and muddled senses and his father’s voice and his father’s hands and the taste of blood. He forced his eyes open, and peered between his fingers, cringing. 

A wet crack resounded as Clint’s elbow collided with Natasha’s ribs. She grunted, stumbling back with the force of the blow. Loki tucked his head behind his arms. 

“Stop.” Natasha’s voice quivered. She sucked ragged breaths between clenched teeth.

Loki lifted his head again. Clint laid face down on the mat beside him; Natasha had the archer’s arm trapped behind his back. His face turned away from Loki’s cowering form.

“I…I’m stopped. I’m calm. Ow. Tasha, I’m good,” Clint said, his voice somewhat muffled by the floor. “I’m sorry.”

She let him up, rising to her feet. A strand of copper hair drifted across her face, having worked its way free of the smooth bun at the back of her head. “Hit the showers.”

Clint looked up at her. He looked over at Loki. He wanted to speak but thought better of it and got up. He rubbed his shoulder as he walked out.

A tremor passed through Loki. His throat tightened. It was too much. Odin’s wrath, Clint’s rage, there was too much. He curled in on himself on the padded floor of the ring and shook apart with sobs. He felt a small, gentle hand on his back. He felt strong, slender arms pulling him up. His head was cradled against sharp collar bone and soft breast, and long, graceful fingers stroked through his hair. He wept until his body was wrung out.

When the storm had passed, Loki pulled away with a shuddering breath. He stared down at the floor. His blood was slowly drying on the mat.

“Do you want me to take you to the infirmary?” Natasha asked.

Loki shook his head. He wouldn’t look at her.

“Okay. I’ll see you at dinner.” She lingered there until he nodded shakily. 

When she was gone, Loki unfolded from the ball he’d tucked himself into and stood up slowly. He scrubbed the tears off his cheeks with a fist. Back in his own apartment, he fell into a dreamless sleep. 

***

Natasha hesitated in the elevator. “Apartment or range?”

“Agent Barton is in his apartment, if that’s what you’re asking, Agent Romanov.”

“JARVIS, you know full well what I’m asking. Thanks.” She pressed the button that would take her to Clint’s floor of the tower.

She let herself in without knocking. 

Clint laid face up on the couch, staring at the ceiling with tears streaming down his face. 

“You could have taken today off,” Natasha said. “I’d have made excuses for you.”

Clint sniffled.

“I’m sorry. I miss him too,” she admitted. “Not like you do, but in my own way.”

He blinked, fresh tears sliding down his cheeks. 

Natasha perched on the arm of the couch. “We could do something. Buy him some flowers. I know you haven’t been to the grave since his funeral.”

Clint shuddered in a silent sob. 

Natasha pursed her lips.

Bright sun streamed through the windows, motes of dust swimming in its rays. A bird outside attacked its reflection in the glass. The air conditioner hummed softly. Goosebumps rose on Natasha’s bare arms. Clint sniffled again.

Natasha padded into the bathroom and grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper and the first aid kit from under his sink. She handed toilet paper to Clint. “Wipe your nose. And buy tissues.”

He took the paper, crumpling it in his hand. “Forty-nine.”

“I know.”

“I thought we had the rest of our lives.” Clint sniffed and swiped the tissue across the underside of his nose. “I thought the rest of his life would be longer.”

“We all did.” She sat on the arm of the couch again, balancing the first aid kit on her lap.

“Forty-seven years, nine months, twenty-six days.” Clint sat up, drying his cheeks. “It wasn’t enough.”

“It never is,” Natasha replied. “When you love someone, there’s never enough time.” She took one of his hands and began dabbing at the blood drying on his knuckles. 

“This is not how I imagined celebrating his birthday.”

She finished cleaning and bandaging his hands in silence. “Are you going to be okay if I go change before dinner?”

Clint nodded. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

***

Clint, Thor and Tony were gathered around the table when Loki arrived in the kitchen. Steve stood over the stove, looking like a housewife’s wet dream in blue jeans, tight t-shirt and apron. Thor’s eyes widened when he saw his brother, and he was on his feet in an instant.

“What happened?”

Loki shied from his touch. “Nothing,” he answered. He ducked his head as though he could hide the bruises blossoming across his cheek and jaw.

“That’s not nothing,” Tony argued. He set down his drink, coming around the table for a closer look.

Loki took a step back.

“You’re hurt,” Steve observed, setting aside a silicone spoon so he too could approach.

“I’m fine, really, it’s…”

“We were sparring.” Clint’s thumb traced the edge of the bandages on his knuckles. 

“You beat him up?” Steve asked incredulously.

“I…” Suddenly they were all focused on Clint. His throat went dry. “I don’t know. I lost it. I mean,” he shook his head. “I really lost it. I don’t remember most of it, except that we were sparring and I don’t know. I lost my temper, lost control.”

Thor’s eyes widened, his nostrils flared, mouth set in a hard line. “You-” He took a single, ominous step forward and Clint scrambled to his feet.

Natasha slipped past Loki into the kitchen. “Smells good, Steve, is it almost ready?”

“Clint beat up Loki,” Tony announced. He sounded like a child tattling.

“I came down to apologize.” Clint retreated from Thor, trapped between the table and the wall. 

“We were sparring,” Loki interjected quickly. 

“I thought we weren’t leaving them alone.” Steve frowned. “Who’s turn was it to--”

“I was there.” Natasha glanced at Loki’s bruised and swollen face.

“You were there?” Thor echoed. He spun to face her. “And you did nothing? After all that Loki has suffered, and I thought you understood. You didn’t help him? Didn’t protect him?” He closed in on Natasha, hurt and anger flooding his eyes.

“I don’t need protecting,” Loki snapped.

“Look at yourself, brother,” Thor insisted. “You’re bruised beyond recognition.” His voice softened. “You’re limping.” He glared at Natasha.

“He says he doesn’t need protecting,” she said, shrugging.

For a moment, the Aesir’s face went slack. “I might’ve guessed you’d take Clint’s side.” Thor’s jaw tightened, his hands clenched.

“I thought I was taking Loki’s side.” Natasha’s lips curled into a familiar half-smile. 

“There are no sides here.” Clint’s voice held a desperate tone.

A muscle twitched in Thor’s arm. “I thought he would be safe here.’ His voice dropped to a menacing growl.

“She stopped him,” Loki’s voice cracked. “She did intervene. She pulled him off me.” He insinuated himself between Natasha and his brother. “See?” He yanked up the hem of Natasha’s shirt and revealed a livid bruise across her ribs, shades of plum and azure mottled across the pale skin. “There’s the thanks she got.”

“I don’t remember hitting you,” Clint whispered.

“Steve, dinner’s burning,” Natasha observed.

“I don’t remember much of anything between Loki hitting the mat and you letting me up.” Clint swayed on his feet.

Steve hustled back to the stove, turning the burner off and pulling the skillet off the heat.

“Why didn’t you just say so immediately?” Thor’s anger was abating and confusion setting it.

“He said he didn’t need protecting,” Natasha repeated. She plucked the fabric of her shirt from Loki’s grasp and smoothed the hem back down around her hips.

“You know, I think this is pretty much ruined,” Steve proclaimed. “How about we go out?”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” Clint pushed in his chair and froze, realizing that he couldn’t leave the kitchen without walking past the cluster of other Avengers.

“Come with us for the company,” Natasha suggested. “You don’t need to be alone right now.” She stepped forward, reaching for his hand.

Clint shook his head and stepped out of her reach.

“Clint,” Loki said gently. “Let us break bread together, to show there are no hard feelings.”

Clint frowned at him. “You don’t mean that. I beat the hell out of you.” He held up his bandaged hand as evidence.

“I’ve survived worse.” Loki’s lips twisted into a half smile. “You said you were here to apologize. I accept it.” He held out his hand. “And perhaps you and Natasha can trade training schedules. Melee with her, and I’ll join you at the range? It’d be an honor to learn from the best.”

Clint reached out hesitantly and shook Loki’s hand. “She is pretty good at hand to hand.”

Loki’s grin stretched to the rest of his mouth. The tension seemed to drain from the room.

***

Clint slowed to walk next to Natasha as the group headed through the parking garage. “Why didn’t you just tell Thor upfront?”

She pursed her lips. “He was pissed.”

“I noticed. At me. Like he should’ve been. You were baiting him. Why?”

She looked at Clint out of the corner of her eye. “To protect you, stupid. Pretty sure Thor could ‘one punch, one kill’ you.”

“Or you.” He put his hand on her arm and stopped walking. 

Natasha chuckled lightly. “Thor wasn’t going to hurt me. He’s got this weird sense of honor and he didn’t have quite enough to justify it. You, on the other hand….” She trailed off. “You’ve got me worried.”

“Same.” He loosened his grip on her arm and stroked it gently. “How bad did I hurt you?”

“They’re just ribs. It only hurts when I breathe.” She smiled at him. 

“Oh, so nothing important then.” He smiled back. 

She leaned in, brushing her shoulder against his arm and running her hand down to the bandages on his knuckles. “You sure you’re okay?”

Clint nodded. “You didn’t say anything about me hitting you.”

“Keep icing that shoulder. I give as good as I get.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki makes an important choice

The first day that Loki came to the range to train with Clint, both Steve and Thor were waiting.

“I thought I’d join in, if you don’t mind.” Steve smiled broadly. “Things have changed a lot since my basic training days.”

Clint nodded. “That’s great. The more the merrier.” He glanced at Thor.

Thor leaned against the wall and crossed his massive arms over his broad chest. He set his jaw, staring at the archer.

“I think he’s here to make sure you don’t shoot me,” Loki observed, leaning closer to Clint.

Clint tensed, every part of his body pulling inward. His lips pressed into a thin line. He fought the urge to recoil from Loki’s proximity. “That’s great.” He turned to the weapons locker. “I don’t know what Nat already showed you, but I thought we could start with my personal favorite: the bow.”

***

“I never properly apologized to you,” Loki said softly. He plucked a glass from the dishwasher and wiped it dry.

“You never will,” Clint replied. He spared a glance at Bruce, brewing tea on the opposite side of the counter. “There aren’t words that make up for what you did to me. And I don’t care how much time passes, or how much you pretend to change. You took my free will. You can’t apologize for that.”

“Maybe I can’t be forgiven.” He held out the glass. “I can still express my regrets.” He waited patiently for the archer to meet his gaze. “I am sorry.”

“You murdered the man I loved.”

Loki swallowed. “I’m sorry for that too.”

“I don’t forgive you.” Clint snatched the glass out of Loki’s hand and shoved it into a cupboard.

***

Weeks of tweaking and tinkering yielded a prototype weapon. Tony brought it to the range: a lightweight pike that fired a repulsor blast from its bladed end. They each took a turn firing it at the targets on the range and for once, Loki did better than the others. The length of the pole made it awkward to aim, but it was not so different from the scepter he had carried … before. Everything in his life was divided into before and after. There was time before the torture and exile and humiliation. There was after. After was divided between nightmares of Odin punishing him and fantasies of revenge and dreams of redemption.  

Tony looked at Loki expectantly.

Loki blinked at him.

“I said what do you think?” He sipped his scotch.

“Oh. It’s --” Loki cleared his throat. “Adequate, I suppose.”

“Adequate.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Champagne all around,” he muttered. “Some gratitude wouldn’t go amiss.”

Loki picked the polearm up again. “It’s exquisite. I can’t wait to use it. Thank you.”

***

“I’m thinking of taking a few days.” Clint settled on the rec room couch next to Steve.

“Seriously? First Romanov, now you?” Steve shook his head. “We’re never going to be a team if we don’t start acting like one.”

“Wait, what about Romanov?” Tony wandered out of the kitchen with a wine bottle in one hand and a corkscrew in the other.

“See? Our communication is terrible.” Steve fumbled with the remote, turning down the volume on the television. “She left two days ago, something about an old friend who needed help.”

“Were those her exact words?”

“I think so. I figured if anyone knew any more about it than that, it’d be you.”

Clint frowned and checked his phone. Nothing.

“Is something wrong?” Steve asked.

“None of Natasha’s old friends can be trusted.”

***

Clint was at the range, alone, when the call came.

“Agent Barton.” The voice was heavily impregnated with a Russian accent. The man on the screen was dark-eyed and weathered, his hair silvering at the temples.

“Petrovich,” Clint greeted him flatly. He tucked his bow against his shoulder, holding the phone out far enough that the weapon would appear in the frame.

“I have done something terrible, and I need your help. She needs your help.” The man looked down at his hands. “I had no choice, please, you must understand.”

“What did you do, Yuri?” Clint slitted his eyes at the screen.

“They had my father, I had no choice.” He grimaced. “I gave them Natalia to save his life. I’ve betrayed her. I’ve put her in grave danger. And I can’t save her alone.”

“Where is she?” Clint demanded. “Who has her?”

“The Hand.”  
***

Clint assembled the Avengers. “Natasha’s in danger. Remember my comment about her old friends?” He glanced at Steve, who nodded in response. “It sucks to be right.”

“What happened?” Steve’s chest rose, his shoulders falling back, head high. Captain Rogers, reporting for duty.

Clint fussed with an arrow as he spoke. “She’s in the custody the Hand.”

“The Hand?” Tony looked up from his bourbon. “Who names these people?”

“It’s not one person,” Clint explained. “It’s a group. Of ninjas.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up as he took a drink.

“Are you going to be sober enough to fight?” Clint snapped.

“I don’t need to be sober to fight. Ask Rhodes.” Tony set the empty glass aside. “JARVIS, suit up.”

“What do these people want with Romanov?” Steve asked, calling attention back to the matter at hand.

Clint shook his head. “I don’t know. They abducted her when she was a child, but her handler rescued her. As far as I know, they never tried again.”

“Until now,” Steve remarked.

“Until now,” Clint agreed.

Bruce sighed heavily. “What’s our risk of collateral damage?”

“Yuri thinks she’s being held at a base in Kitakyushu. Which, I can throw Yuri farther than I trust him but, that’s what it is. I think we can keep the big guy contained to the base.” Clint shrugged.

“But it’s a distraction from what we’re there to do.” Bruce slipped his glasses off, wiping the lenses on the tail of his shirt. “Maybe I should sit out.”

“Honestly, I’m more concerned that you’re going to bring the whole base down on top of her. But yeah, maybe you should.”

Steve frowned at Clint. “Thor, that makes you our heaviest hitter. Tony, we’re going to put you on perimeter control. How tough are these guys?”

“That’s probably a question for Yuri or Ivan. And take that answer with a grain of salt.”

***

“They are mostly human,” Yuri hedged. “But strong and fast and very well trained. They learn to fight as they learn to walk.”

“There are enhanced,” Ivan added. “I should go with you.”

“No.” Yuri shook his head. “I just got you back from them, папа, and you’re injured.”

“And you might stab us in the back,” Clint muttered. It earned him a sharp glare from the two Russians.

“Okay." Steve pursed his lips, deliberately ignoring Clint's exchange with their short-term allies. "Nat's our best at hand to hand, it'd be nice to have her for this."

"If we had her, we wouldn't be doing this," Clint pointed out.

"I know that." Steve glared at him. "Keep distance, play hard offense. Thor and I will be in the trenches on this one. Loki, I don’t want you in the thick of it; you’re probably not ready. Fight if you have to, but, well, you’re pretty stealthy even without your magic, right?” Steve looked at him.

“I want to help,” Loki insisted.

“You will,” Steve assured him. “Sneak around. Find Natasha. Gather intel-”

“He’s not great with technology, it’s not like he’s going to hack into their mainframe,” Clint interjected. “Maybe he shouldn’t go.”

Ivan scoffed. “Mainframe? The Hand are ancient mystics. They use very little tech. There will be booby traps, and more enemies than any of us anticipate. If you want intel, look for a library on the base.”

“Well, that sounds right up my alley.” Loki smiled.

***

While the others waged battled, Loki explored the catacombs of the base. He opened door after door. Turned down hallway after hallway.

In a dimly lit room, an IV fed fluids into her veins. Thick, glossy, white straps bound her to a narrow gurney. Loki stepped inside and let the door fall shut behind him. Blood pounded in his ears. His long fingers closed around the hilt of his knife.

A step closer. A green line wiggled across a black screen, beeping at each peak. Her heartbeat. Her eyes remained closed.

A step closer. Metal whispered against the sheath as he drew his blade.

“We were too late,” he whispered. “She was dead when I found her. Her throat slit.” He licked his parched lips and took another step. His shadow fell over her. His hand shook. He tightened his grip, knuckles blanching.

“They’d never know. Never even suspect.” He leaned down over her. He drew a deep breath. The room stank of iodine and fear. “And I’ll never hear your voice again.”

A sound halfway between a moan and a whimper passed through her lips. Words in a dark language that -- without the gift of Allspeak -- he did not understand slipped out.

Loki leaned back.

Her wrists were mottled wine-dark where the bonds dug into her pale flesh. Two of her nails had broken down short, into the raw pink beds. He stared at her hands.

“Or the beat of your heart. And I will never again feel your fingers in my hair.” He pulled in a breath. “Or the warmth of your skin. Will you haunt me still?”

“No.” The word ghosted from her on an exhalation. She drew a shuddering gasp, released with a whimper.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I don’t need your pity.” He carefully cut through the bonds. He touched the small device in his ear.

“I’ve found her. She’s not conscious.”

***

“Hey.” Clint peered down into her face. “How do you feel?”

Natasha squeaked weakly. She rolled onto her side, and Clint quickly shoved a shallow pan under her face. He held her hair out of the way as she brought up the contents of her stomach.

“Any idea what the Hand wanted with you?” He handed her a paper towel.

Natasha wiped her mouth and spat. “Black Sky.”

“Pretty sure it’s blue.”

She glowered at him with as much ferocity as she could muster. It wasn’t much. “The important thing is they didn’t get it.” She flopped onto her back.

“Hey, sit up a little.” Clint picked up a glass of water. “I’ll help.” He placed his free hand behind her shoulders. “That’s it.”

Natasha sucked water through the straw. “I hate being drugged.”

“That’s because you pick the wrong drugs. Get some bad guys who’ll smoke pot with you.” Clint nodded, a mock-serious expression on his face.

She managed a weak laugh. “Ow.”

“Hurts to laugh?”

She nodded.

“Rest.” He bent over and kissed her forehead gently.

***

“Steve tells me that Loki was instrumental in my rescue.” Natasha folded her arms over her chest.

Clint glanced at her. “Steve exaggerates.”

“He’s trying.”

Clint shook his head. “He’s trying my patience.”

She frowned at him. “Clint.”

“You know what? When I’m the only one holding him accountable, I’ve got to hold that much harder. Everybody wants to treat him with kid gloves. Everybody wants to feel bad for him because he got his ass beat. He deserved it, Nat. He doesn’t deserve our pity or any second chances.”

“In all fairness, I’ve killed pretty much everyone who has ever hurt me,” Natasha acknowledged.

“Thank you,” Clint said sharply. “Don’t act like I’m crazy for wanting some kind of justice.”

“You’re not, but,” Natasha drew a deep breath. “How much of this is really you being mad at him, and how much is you being mad at Phil for being gone?”

Clint pursed his lips and looked away.

“How much of it is you being mad at you because the last words you said to him were in anger?”

He stood quickly. “Don’t.” He shook his head. “Just don’t.”

“You’ve got to forgive, at least yourself. Especially yourself. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer. This anger isn’t good for you.” Her posture softened, arms dropping to her sides.

“Everyone else has moved on, and I’m standing still.” Clint angled his back to her. “I would’ve done things so differently if I’d known I was going to lose him like this.”

“Like what?” She tipped her head to the side, skirting around Clint to peer into his face.

Clint sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “If I could go back, I’d tell him every day that the sun rises and sets in his eyes. That I loved him.”

“He knew. And he loved you.”

“I miss him. I just want the chance to fix it.” He blinked quickly.

Natasha draped her arm over his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you don’t get a second chance. But you get to give one.”

He snorted. “You’re good. You--” He shook his head. “I’ll think about it.”

***

The gym stood empty except for Natasha, waiting on the mats.

“What do you want to start with?” she asked.

“Are you well?” Loki approached her cautiously.

“I’m fine. What should we work on?”

“What to do if I’m knocked to the ground,” Loki answered.

Natasha nodded and gestured to the ring. “Well, first and best bet is ‘don’t get knocked down,’ but we can cover that later. Let’s start with the rules of falling.”

“Gravity wins?” Loki smirked.

“Every time.” She nodded in agreement. “Try not to let your head hit the ground. So, if you find yourself falling backwards, tuck your chin.” Natasha gave a brief demonstration of how to land and Loki awkwardly copied.

“Not bad. Drop your weight.” She cocked her head to the side.

He bent his knees.

“Lower.” Natasha gave him a light shove, sending him onto his back. “Better. You can practice more later. Go ahead and lay down on your back.” She pointed to the mat.

Loki hesitated, halfway to his feet already. A dark figure cast a long shadow over him.

He was bloodied and bruised and barely conscious, but conscious enough. The knife had brought his senses back. Loki ran his hand over the front of his shirt from collarbone to navel. Flayed open, only magic and stubbornness keeping him alive, in chains in the hot sun. A sun that never set, never moved; no matter how closely he’d watched the shadows, they never got any closer to offering him relief. A serpent coiled on the rocks above dripped venom into the wounds, keeping them raw. The pain too great to rest. Too great to resist. And the memory of an even larger shadow that haunted him.

 

"Loki?” Natasha’s voice stirred him from his recollections. “Maybe we should just focus on the falling today.” Her brows knit together in concern.

“No,” he shook his head to clear it. “No, this is something I need to learn.”

“There’s a lot you need to learn,” she teased with a smirk.

He straightened up and fell again, as she’d shown him. Loki settled into position, trying to slow his racing heart. Natasha straddled him, and his heart was racing for an entirely different reason. The weight of her on his hips. The heat of her thighs. She grabbed his shirt with one hand and raised the other in a fist.

Despite the distractions, he brought his hands up to shield his face instinctively.

“Good. First step is hands up. Now, go ahead and trap this hand to your chest,” Natasha instructed, shaking the fabric of his shirt gently.  Loki put one of his hands over hers and pressed down. Her hand was so small that his completely covered it. She reached down with her free hand and squeezed his hand to tighten his grip. “Control it. It’s yours now, don’t let it go.”

“Protect myself. Control the hand,” Loki repeated to himself. He focused on the lesson, trying to ignore the fact that she had her legs spread over his hips.

“Now, you’ll want to trap the leg on the same side as the trapped hand.” She glanced down. “So, left hand, left leg.”

“Trap … the leg?” Loki frowned. He reached across his chest to trap her hand with the opposite hand and started to reach down for her leg.

“No, just put -- oh, let go, let me show you.”

He released her hand and she slipped off, lying down next to him on the mat. “Mount me.”

Loki sat up, raising his eyebrows at her.

“The position I was just in is called the mount,” Natasha explained. “Get into it.”

He swallowed hard and straddled her hips.

“Like you’re going to attack me, please,” she prompted. She was wearing a tank top. He put his hand delicately on her upper chest, near her shoulder and raised the other hand. She immediately grabbed onto the hand that was touching her. He felt her ankle press against his. “Ok, now try to move that leg.”

It was pinned between her ankle and her thigh. He wiggled, but she kept him held tight. Clever. “Got it,” Loki declared.

“Now, I’m going to buck my hips and throw you in the direction of the trapped limbs,” Natasha explained. “You’ve got nothing to catch yourself with on that side. Remember the rules of falling?”

Loki tucked his head down just in time. In one smooth motion, he was on his back again and she was on top of him, lying between his legs. Her head was against his chest, he could feel her breasts against his lower abdomen. He pulled a slow breath in through his nose.

“Stay close, keep your head low, and turn your face to the side,” Natasha continued in a professional tone. “I’ll throw a strike towards your face to distract you.” Her left hand feinted upward, palm just connecting with his chin.

“I am distracted.” He shuddered slightly at the mock strike.

“Elbows into the thighs,” she added, pressing outwards with her elbows in a way that made Loki spread his legs quickly. “Then move down, striking again as needed,” she mimed another blow towards his groin.

Loki dropped his hand to protect himself, but she didn’t make contact.

“Ready to try?” She crouched by his feet and he nodded. With a faint smile, she took her position straddling his hips again and grabbed a handful of shirt.

“Protect myself.” Loki brought his hands up. “Trap the hand.” He placed one hand over hers. “Trap the leg.” He moved his leg over hers.

“Tighter,” Natasha instructed. “I can slip out of that.”

He pressed his ankle in tighter and she nodded in approval.

“Buck my hips, roll in the direction of the trapped limbs,” he recited.

“Stay low and close,” she reminded. He moved, not as swiftly or as gracefully as she had, but the technique worked. He was on top. He lifted his head to look at her with a smile.

Natasha wrapped her legs around him and mimed punching him in the nose.

“Keep your head down,” she advised. “This position is called the guard.” She squeezed with her thighs. “It can be very dangerous.”

“For me?” Loki’s voice cracked just a little.

“Oh yes.” Natasha smirked a little. “But I’ve already shown you how to get out of it. Blow to the face to distract, elbows into the femoral artery to get my legs to release you.”

Loki worked through the series of movements, slow and awkward.

“Not bad. Again, from the fall.”

He stood, he fell, he stretched out on the mats, and Natasha knelt over him again. Her fist gripped the fabric of his shirt.

“Remember, you can hit me in the face to distract me.”

Loki reached up, cupping her jaw, and pulled her to him as he sat up. He pressed his lips to hers: gentle, hesitant and brief. He opened his eyes slowly.

Natasha swallowed. “That also works as a distraction,” she acknowledged.

“That was inappropriate, I apologize.” His cheeks burned. His hands dropped onto the mat and he leaned his weight back onto his palms.

Natasha shied back and stood. “If we’re going to train together, we both need to be professional about it.”

“I know that, I understand,” Loki stared down at the mats.

“That means if you want to kiss me, you’re going to have to do it another time, another place.”

He looked up in surprise. “And at another time, in another place, it would be acceptable?”

“I don’t know what you’re playing at.” Natasha shook her head and eyed him suspiciously.

“You don’t think it’s possible I’m simply attracted to you?” He crossed his legs, leaning forward.

“Not for a second.”

He blinked, his face transforming into a frown.

Natasha was already walking away. “Same time next week,” she called out over her shoulder. “Work on falling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...IN LOVE!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are progressing nicely

“JARVIS?” Loki said hesitantly.  
“Mister Laufeyson?” The odd voice refused to dispense with titles, regardless of how inaccurate they were.  
“Private search,” Loki recalled one of the first things Tony had taught him, with a rather salacious wink. “Modern midgardian courting customs.” He picked up the tablet Stark had given him. An hour later he felt no better prepared to face Natasha. He’d read advice for both men and women and nothing seemed to apply to a trickster God and a deadly assassin.  
“JARVIS, has Agent Romanov ever brought a date here to the tower?”  
“No, sir, she has not.”  
Loki frowned. “What does she like?” he muttered.  
“You may want to be more specific in your inquiry,” JARVIS suggested. “Agent Romanov’s known predilections include dark chocolates, roses, Russian-made semi-automatic pistols, twentieth century American literature, pistachios, white wine, the films of John Hughes, black licorice, curry, five-card stud…”  
“Thank you,” Loki interjected loudly.  
***  
Natasha didn’t run. She walked at a steady pace, without looking back, until she got to the elevator. Safely inside, she lightly touched her lips and willed her heart to slow. She replayed the entire incident in the gym in her mind. They hadn’t been flirting. She hadn’t been sending off any signals. It was training, the same as she’d done with dozens of rookie SHIELD agents. No different than when she’d shown Happy a few of her tricks.  
The only difference was the partner. Loki was a great deal more observant than most people, even SHIELD agents and especially rookies. He was also, she reminded herself, a great deal more dangerous.  
She squeezed her eyes shut, already regretting her next action. “JARVIS, where’s Stark?”  
“In the lab, as usual, Miss Romanov.”  
“Take me up,” she said with a heavy sigh. The elevator doors opened, and Natasha approached the entrance of the lab and knocked.  
Tony frowned, the door swinging open. “No one knocks. What’s up?”  
“I want to talk to you about Loki.”  
He waved her in. “Seems like things are going well. Something happen?”  
“He has some sort of agenda.” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.  
Tony sighed and poured two drinks. “What’s up?”  
Natasha glanced at the glass and shook her head. “Normally, I’d go to Clint, but I can’t with this. Not where Loki’s concerned. I need someone to bounce ideas off. What could Loki gain by seducing me?”  
Tony sputtered vodka back into the cup. “Seducing you?”  
“He kissed me.”  
Wheels turned in Tony’s head. “Where?”  
“Focus. Do I nip this in the bud or let it play out?” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.  
“Pros of letting it play out, you find out if that silver tongue thing is just a reference to talking.”  
Natasha shot him a glare. “See, you’re the easy target for a seduction. What can Loki get from me that he couldn’t get from you?”  
Tony pointed awkwardly between them. “There’s an anatomical thing.”  
Natasha sighed and picked up the drink Tony had poured her.  
“I mean this as a compliment,” Tony began, “you're the most devious, duplicitous person I know. If Loki is trying to play you, he’s going to get played. You’d think he’d’ve learned that last time.”  
Her frown smoothed out.  
“Maybe he’s genuinely into you. You have a lot going for you.” Tony shrugged.  
“Maybe it’s revenge. He wants to hurt me or humiliate me or use me to get under Clint’s skin.” She gritted her teeth.  
Tony shrugged. “Here’s the thing: I have faith in you not letting that happen.”  
Natasha nodded. She lifted her glass to her lips and paused. “How many of these have you had?”  
***  
“What’s curry?” Loki asked after a long moment.  
The AI helpfully sent a handful of links to Loki’s tablet. “Miss Romanov’s particular preference seems to be for Lahori Karahi and Vindaloo.”  
Loki nodded and began searching for florists. He couldn’t very well give her a gun on a first date, but flowers seemed to be within reason. As he fumbled to figure out the ordering process, it occurred to him that he hadn’t asked her for a date.  
***  
It could be an entertaining challenge. Tricking the trickster, again. Let him think he had her where he wanted her, get him to put his cards on the table, then turn the tables. Loki was clever enough that Natasha would have to prepare for the possibility of a triple cross. Certainly, he’d count on her distrust; he wasn’t fool enough to fall for the same tricks twice.  
She lifted her glass to Tony. “Thank you.”  
“So what are you going to do?”  
She thought of Loki sobbing in the gym after Clint had beaten him. She thought of him smirking at her through the glass, his fist pressed against its smooth surface. “I’m still deciding.”  
She returned to her apartment, mentally cataloguing every past experience with the trickster. Every word Thor had ever spoken about his brother. She settled onto the couch with her tablet and began pulling up tales from Norse mythology.  
Natasha was deeply engrossed in the tale of Idun’s kidnapping when a knock resounded from her door. Tossing the tablet onto the cushions, she grabbed her glock off the end table and approached the door.  
“Agent Romanov, your visitor is Mister Laufeyson,” the AI advised, “and he appears to be unarmed, if I may be so bold.”  
Natasha paused. “I guess you can be whatever you’re programmed to be, JARVIS.” She tucked the gun into her waistband before opening the door. Her hand on her cocked hip made it obvious that she was poised to grab the weapon if needed.  
“This is also isn’t the time or place.”  
Loki smiled disarmingly. “I thought it might be the place, though you’re right about the time. Perhaps a better time would be Friday evening, after dinner?”  
“Are you asking me to dinner?”  
“I am.” Loki studied her for a moment. She was considering it. He was pretty sure she was considering it. “I don’t need an answer right now,” he said, aiming for nonchalant.  
Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him.  
“Well, to get a reservation, I probably do, but we could do it next week,” he offered.  
“Friday’s fine,” Natasha replied.  
***  
She had dressed in emerald green. It flattered her.  
Loki looked at the bouquet of dark red roses in his hand and sighed. “You put the flowers to shame with your beauty.”  
“You’re laying it on a bit thick,” Natasha informed him, but she smiled.  
Loki shook his head. “You transform men into poets and poets into fools.”  
“So I transform men into fools via a two-step process? Tell me something I don’t know.” She pulled a vase from a cabinet in her kitchenette, filling it with water.  
He chuckled, unwrapping the plastic around the bouquet. His hand brushed hers as he handed over the flowers, and his heart raced. “It’s been a long time since I dated, and never like this. Perhaps I’m laying it on thick because I’m nervous.”  
She tilted her head, analyzing his face. “Is that true?”  
Loki shrugged, scuffing his foot across the carpet. “I want to impress you, but you’re not a simple creature.”  
“See now, that sounds a lot more like the sort of comment I’d expect from you. A simple creature.” Natasha shook her head, rolling her eyes.  
He offered her his arm. “Barton misled me on that front.”  
She froze, halfway to reaching for him. “What does that mean?”  
He didn’t answer immediately and he didn’t meet her gaze. “He couldn’t have deliberately misled me, not under the influence of the mind stone. He underestimates you. Apparently quite significantly.”  
Natasha’s hand dropped her her side as she sighed. “Get out.”  
“Wh-why?”  
“If you think you can somehow undermine my friendship with Clint, you’re wrong. Get out.”  
“That’s not--” Loki stammered an objection. “I wasn’t! I merely --” He growled in frustration and drew a deep breath. “I see you differently than he does, that’s all. You’re beautiful and brilliant and dangerous and everything he warned me you would be. But you’re somehow more. I’m sorry. I’ve managed to muck this all up. I’ll go.”  
He made no move to actually leave.  
Natasha folded her arms over her chest.  
He glanced at her, and she cocked one eyebrow. His shoulders fell. Loki pursed his lips. “Right. I’m sorry.”  
“Didn’t take you long to play your hand,” she replied.  
“This wasn’t a game.”  
Her eyebrows rose; her eyes narrowed.  
Loki’s hands fidgeted, nail scratching lightly against his palm. “I had hoped to apologize more properly, but words will have to suffice if this is the only chance I get.” He looked from his clasped hands to her face. “In my gleeful quest to outwit Thanos, I hurt innocent people. My hubris made me believe it wouldn’t matter, but it does. The end didn’t justify the means, and I am sorry for my means.” He swallowed. “And I’m sorry for the things I said to you on the helicarrier.”  
Natasha’s frown deepened. “Thanos? Who or what is that?”  
He grimaced. “I did say that, didn’t I? The army you fought, the Chitauri, that was his army.”  
“What does he want?” She took a step closer.  
His stomach knotted. “I -- I can’t -- I’ve already said too much. Please, would you reconsider dinner?”  
***  
Natasha looked at the marquee of the restaurant. “You like Indian food?”  
“I’ve never had it, actually. The voice at the tower said it was your favorite. Which coincided with the intel Agent Barton had given me, so I thought --” Loki stopped. “I’ve said the wrong thing again.”  
“It’s a little creepy that you know so much about me without actually knowing me at all.”  
“I want to know you if you’ll let me.” He offered his arm.  
She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.  
***  
Natasha set a box of caramels on Clint’s counter. “How are you?”  
He glanced at the gift with suspicion. “What’s the occasion?”  
She pursed her lips.  
“You need a favor,” he guessed.  
Natasha looked away.  
“A big favor?” Clint’s hand snaked out to pull the box closer. “Ooh, this is a lot of candy.”  
“How much do you remember about your time under Loki’s control?” She leaned against the counter.  
“Too much.” He opened the box. “I thought you wanted me to move on.”  
Natasha winced. “Did he ever mention someone called Thanos?”  
Clint drew a deep breath, exhaling with a soft sigh. “How do you know that name?”  
“I know you don’t want to talk about it.” She offered a thin smile. “Hence the candy. I need to know, Clint, because he’s still out there and he might still be a threat.”  
He began unwrapping a caramel. “Loki told you about him.”  
“No, he didn’t. That’s the problem.” She stared into his eyes. “Please.”  
“I’m not sharing my candy.”  
Natasha nodded her agreement.  
“He gave Loki that scepter. The thing that powers it is part of something bigger. Same as the tesseract. It’s like a puzzle. He gets all the pieces, it’s probably the end of the world. Thanos is like some kind of crazy god-person. Even Loki’s afraid of him.” He popped a caramel into his mouth. “I think Loki only let me know that much because he was planning to kill me.” The words were thickly muffled by the candy.  
***  
Thor propped his elbows on the table, folding his hands and resting his chin against them.  
“Everything okay?” Darcy moved her silverware away from his elbows.  
“I’ll be leaving soon,” Thor answered.  
“Leaving?” Tony pulled the olive out of his martini, sliding it off its skewer with his teeth. “Why?”  
“I’ve been seeing some anomalies in my research--” Jane began.  
“The destruction of the bifrost upset the balance between the realms,” Thor interjected. “Even with it repaired, Asgard’s enemies have grown bold. I’ve been asked to lead our army in turning back the Marauders.”  
“How terrible,” Loki muttered. “How long will you be away?”  
“Odin will keep an eye on you.” Thor glared at his brother.  
“He hasn’t one to spare, especially with his enemies growing bold.”  
“This is not a trifling matter.” Thor’s forearm slammed down on the tabletop, making the plates jump.  
“I’m not trifling. I’m offering to help.” Loki smiled saccharinely. “I could be of so much assistance, if he would only--”  
Thor shook his head. “He won’t. He has forbidden that anyone even speak your name. He would have you killed on sight. And he wouldn’t trust you with this.”  
Loki picked up a glass, swirling wine around the goblet. “Well, I offered.”  
***  
“It was Frigga, of course, who gave me my greatest weapon.” Loki smiled fondly. “Something Thor could not wield any more than I could wield Mjolnir. He once set his hair on fire trying.”  
“What?” Natasha chuckled. “How?”  
“Magic. The ritual required a candle and a certain degree of finesse.” He chuckled. “Thor, as I’m sure you know, has the finesse of a bull in a china shop.” A mischievous smile curled on his lips. “And I might have given him the wrong instructions.” He stopped, his expression shifting as he studied a display. He shuffled forward a single step.  
The quiet clamor of the other museum patrons faded from his awareness. He closed one hand into a fist, wrapping the other over it to stop himself from reaching for the work.  
“Like magic,” he gasped. “It’s beautiful.” His eyes drank in the miniature world. “I want to go there. Don’t you want to-” Loki’s words died on his lips as he turned to look at Natasha.  
She too was staring at the work; her lips parted slightly, her eyes dark, her brow troubled.  
“Natasha?”  
“It’s full of horrors,” she whispered.  
His brow furrowed, mouth turning up at one corner. “It’s -- look, it’s called a _Setting for A Fairy Tale_. It’s fantastic and lovely. It’s a palace.”  
“It’s a prison. Behind those windows, the floors are stained with blood and screams echo off the walls. It’s haunted.”  
He stepped between Natasha and the assemblage. He touched her arm lightly, willing her to meet his eyes.  
She shuddered softly and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t care for it.”  
“It reminds you of someplace.” His voice was gentle, undemanding.  
“Let’s move on.”  
Loki slipped his arm around her waist, leading her away from the piece.  
***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The artwork in question is "Setting for A Fairy Tale" and is displayed at the Guggenheim Museum in New York City. I hope. That's what the internet told me, anyway!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint is caught completely off guard. Twice.

“You’re up.” 

Loki looked around in befuddlement. “Up?”

“On the roster,” Steve replied. “You, me, Natasha, and a SHIELD agent named Rumlow. A weapon was stolen from SHIELD’s archives. We’re getting it back, and you’re on the team.”

Loki nodded and stood. “I’m ready.”

Steve smiled. “Suit up.”

***

“You’re the Avenger. Hawkeye, right?” 

Clint looked at the woman: tall, blonde, and dressed in navy, and nodded. “Yeah.” He stood, brushing his palms against the legs of his pants before offering her his hand.

“Agent Morse. Bobbi.” She smiled as they shook hands. 

“Clint.” He forced himself to smile back. “Have you been to Latveria before?”

“Once,” she replied. “During the 2008 conflict with Serbia.”

“See any action?” He loaded his quiver without looking.

“Not as much as I wanted to.” 

“Can’t promise you’ll see more on this trip.” He set the quiver aside to re-check his bow. “We want to get the hostage out as quietly as possible.”

She chuckled. “I read the brief. You don’t really think we’re going to get the chance to follow that plan, do you?”

Clint shrugged. “I plan to be home by Friday.” 

“Hot date?” She raised her eyebrows. 

Tension spread across his cheeks. His smile stretched thin. “Uh, no. I just pride myself on efficiency.”

“Okay. Well, if I can’t have you home by Friday, I’ll owe you dinner.” 

He considered it. “And if you can?”

She grinned. “Then you’ll owe me dinner.”

“You know you’re encouraging me to drag my feet on this,” Clint replied. 

Bobbi shrugged. “I’m banking on your integrity. And your efficiency.”

***

“Getting shot is like a rite of passage,” Natasha said. “Anyway, it barely grazed you.”

Loki lightly patted the bandage on his shoulder. “Your rites of passage lack finesse. I despise everything about this world.”

Rumlow patted Loki’s uninjured shoulder forcefully enough to make him rock in his seat. “Well, I owe you one.”

Natasha leaned in close to Loki as Rumlow departed. “Everything?” she whispered. 

Loki glanced at her, her posture giving him a full view down the front of her uniform. He forced his gaze back to her face. “Maybe not everything.”

Natasha smirked and straightened, tugging the zipper of her suit a little higher. 

***

“It’s Friday.” Agent Morse unbuckled her harness. She stretched her arms above her head.

“It’s Saturday.” Barton picked up his bow case.

“No, it’s -- shit.” She looked at her phone again. “I forgot about time zones.”

He chuckled. “Rookie mistake, Morse. I like steak.” He ambled off the quinjet. 

“Next Friday. How do you want it cooked?”

He looked into her bright eyes. “You don’t seem too broken up about losing our wager.”

Bobbi tipped her head to the side in a half-shrug. “I figure either way I get dinner with you.” She smiled.

Clint’s eyes widened slightly. “This is a date.”

“No, this is a mission. Friday’s a date. How do you like your steak?”

He froze and stared at her. 

The flirtatious sparkle faded from her eyes. She pursed her lips. “Oh. Kay. Out of curiosity, do you not date co-workers? Or not date women? Or not date at all? Is it me?”

Clint winced.

“It’s me. Okay, and I’m making things worse,” Bobbi said. “I’ll stop talking. Maybe I can have takeout delivered to the tower or something, because I don’t welsh on my bets. I--”

“Medium rare.” Clint’s heart raced.

She stopped babbling and looked at him. “Really?”

“You cooking? I’ll bring a bottle of wine.”

***

“I’m not ready.” Clint lightly ran his fingertips over the freshly cropped hair at his temples.

“You’re ready.” Natasha batted his hand away from his hair. “Clint.” She waited for him to meet her gaze. “You’re ready to be happy again.”

“I’m not ready to get hurt again.” A furrow materialized on his brow.

“Pessimist.”

“Hypocrite.” 

“Agent Morse is a good woman. I vetted her. Thoroughly. She’s bright, she’s sarcastic, she’s cute. And she digs you, man.” Natasha smiled.

Clint didn’t smile back.

“He’d want you to be happy.” She ran her fingers over the collar of his shirt. “I don’t think you should wear the tie. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What’s going on with you and Loki?”

Natasha’s smile vanished. “Or wear it. It’s a good color, brings out your eyes.” 

“I know you’ve been going out. You have feelings for him.” He caught her hand as she started to pull away.

“So do you,” she retorted. “Loathing is a feeling.”

“You don’t loath him.” His brow furrowed and he shook his head slightly. “I don’t want you to loath him. I have it on good authority that anger causes ulcers. But are you ready to get hurt?”

Natasha sighed. “If you want me to stop seeing him, I will.” 

“He’s dangerous.”

She extricated her hand from his grip. “He knows more about Thanos than he’s saying.”

“That isn’t --”  Clint considered his words carefully. “That isn't what this is about. You’re not just playing.”

A frown creased her brow as she looked away.

“You can lie to yourself, Nat, but you can’t lie to me.”

She scoffed. “I lie to you all the time, like just now when I told you your tie brings out your eyes. It's honestly hideous,

Clint frowned. “Have you slept with him?” 

Natasha shook her head. “We’ve only even kissed once. He seems weirdly content to take things slow. I know it’s wrong, but I’m kind of enjoying his company.”

Clint’s shoulders sagged. “Phil would, uh, want you to be happy too. I don’t know how he’d feel about you being happy with the man who put a sceptre through his heart.” He sighed. “But he’s not here to guide or judge our lives. Maybe we both need to stop living like he is.”

“I think Loki really wants to change,” Natasha said with a frown. “Not just fool Odin into thinking that he’s changed so that he can go right back to the way things were. Really change. This last mission, he’s acting downright heroic. He risked his life for Rumlow.”

He nodded. “Good. Change is good. So no tie?”

***

Clint had planned to raid Stark’s wine cellar, but none of it seemed like anything he would’ve actually picked himself. He stopped by a grocer’s on his way to Bobbi’s apartment and found a nice Malbec and a bouquet of mixed daisies.

She grinned when she saw him, upper lip pulling back so far he caught a glimpse of her gums. 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t show and I’d have to eat two steaks and it’d be the best time I’ve ever had getting stood up.” She giggled. “But here you are. And you brought flowers?”

“Yeah.” He handed over the daisies. “I thought maybe roses were a little too romantic but showing up empty-handed was tacky.”

“You brought wine.” She pointed to the bottle in his other hand. 

“I -- yeah.”

“So you wouldn’t have been empty handed. Come on in.” She led the way to the kitchen. 

Clint’s brow furrowed as he set the wine on the counter. “You’re putting them in a mason jar?”

“I don’t remember the last time I got flowers, but I don’t own a vase.” Bobbi shrugged. 

“So, to answer your questions from before: I do date women, though my track record’s a bit hit-and-miss. And I have dated a co-worker, but it didn’t end well. At all.”

“Was it Romanov?” she asked. “Because literally everyone thinks that you and Romanov are dating or were dating or will be dating at some point in the very near future.”

Clint chuckled. “It was not Natasha. She and I are not, have not, and will not be dating. She’s a friend. She apparently vetted you -- and I quote -- ‘thoroughly’ before I came over tonight.”

“She sounds like a good friend.” Bobbi smiled warmly. “Everything’s ready, let me just light the candles and we can eat.”

“You want me to uncork the wine?”

“Ooh, yeah. Yes please. Glasses in the cabinet next to the sink.” She dug a corkscrew and a lighter out of a drawer nearly overflowing with miscellaneous items.  “Everybody has a junk drawer, don’t judge.” 

Clint shook his head. “I’m not.” His grin implied that maybe he was, just a little. His fingers brushed over hers as he took the corkscrew out of her hand. His smile softened, the lines at the corners of his eyes easing. He broke eye contact, turning his attention to the wine bottle. 

She put on a little soft instrumental music to fill the air while they ate. 

“This is really good,” Clint commented between bites. “You wanna be an Avenger, you can come cook every week?”

Bobbi offered a terse smile. “I’d love to be an Avenger, but I’m not going to be your cook.”

He swallowed. “I’m sorry, that came out really wrong. I just meant, well, this is good. You’re a great cook. And Banner’s vegan, so he makes all this weird tofu shit, Rogers boils everything, and Stark once burnt water.” He sipped the wine.

“Been awhile since you had a good meal?”

“Thor cooks nothing but meat, and most of the time I’m not even sure what animal it is.” Clint chuckled. “This is definitely better. I haven’t figured out yet what Banner actually eats when it’s Thor’s turn to cook.”

“Do you cook?” She rolled her fork between her fingers.

Clint nodded. “Sure, anything that has directions printed on the package.”

“Sounds delicious.” 

“I’m just going to be honest: I’m not entirely sure what’s going on here.” Clint gestured across the table from himself to her and back. “But I’m going to need to take it slow.”

She smiled again. “Been awhile since you had a date?”

He ran his finger around the rim of his wine glass, making the glass sing as he stared at the dark liquid pooled at the bottom. “I had an on-again off-again thing with Coulson.” His hand slipped to the stem of the glass.  “And even though we were off-again when he died, I haven’t really moved on.” He lifted the glass to his lips and drained it.

“Are you ready to?”

He snorted softly and looked at her with his head still bowed. “Natasha thinks I am.” He smiled wanly. 

Bobbi looked at him studiously.

“Yeah,” Clint finally added. “Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t have come tonight if I wasn’t.”

Bobbi poured a little more wine into his glass and raised hers. “To taking it slow.”

“Cheers.”

***

“You look stunning, as always.” Loki bowed slightly as he greeted Natasha.

“Are you going to tell me what you have planned? I don’t actually like surprises.”

“You’ll like this one,” he promised. 

Natasha wrinkled her nose. 

“Come on, I’ve earned the benefit of a little doubt.”

She cocked her head at him. “Have you really?”

Loki’s shoulder sagged. “Have it your way.” He removed a slim envelope from his inner jacket pocket. “Balanchine Black and White. The New York City Ballet. And dinner beforehand.”

Her jaw dropped. She plucked the envelope from his hand and examined the tickets inside. “I like this surprise,” she admitted.

***

“It’s starting.” Jane burst into the common kitchen. “Darcy, get your stuff. We gotta go. Whatever’s going on. It’s starting. In England.”

Darcy looked up from her Lucky Charms. “Now?”

Loki stepped back from the coffee maker. “I’ll come.” 

“What? No, no, this is important. This could be the biggest scientific discovery of my career, my life, this century.” Jane grabbed a box of PopTarts from the pantry.

“To you this is a scientific discovery, to me it’s home. I’m coming with you.” Loki set down his mug with a thud. 

She sighed. “Look, I’m pretty sure your dad still wants you dead.”

“Odin is not my father, and like it or not, he may need my help.” He took the box out of her hands. “Doctor Foster.”

“He’s not going to give you back your abilities and getting yourself killed isn’t anyone’s idea of helping.” Jane snatched her breakfast back. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come.”

***

“What movie did you get?” Bobbi called from the kitchen.

“The Bourne Legacy. You said you hadn’t seen that one yet, right?” Clint sniffed. “Are you burning the popcorn?”

“No!” Bobbi made a frustrated noise. “Maybe.” 

Clint hurried into the kitchen. “Yeah, that’s burned.”

She dropped the bag on the countertop, waving away the smoke. “I’ve got more, I’ll pop another bag.”

“It’s fine. I like burned popcorn.”

She looked at him. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

Clint shrugged. “Honestly, I’ll eat anything. But how is it that you can make asparagus risotto, which was amazing, but you burn microwave popcorn?”

“Just talented, I guess.” She slipped the NetFlix envelope out of his hand. “I really only watched the other ones because of Matt Damon. Who’s the new guy they got?”

“I don’t know, I never heard of him.” Clint dug another bag of microwave popcorn out of the pantry. “Why don’t you get that set up and I’ll pop the popcorn. Remember, my specialty is anything --”

“With instructions on the package. Go for it.” She smiled, shaking her head.

***

“What did you think?” Clint stretched, his back popping as he rose from the couch.

“He’s no Matt Damon.”

“So few of us are.” He popped the DVD out of the player. 

“Wanna throw on another?” Bobbi asked.

“It’s pretty late. I should go.” He dropped the envelope on the floor and bent to pick it up.

“You could stay,” she offered. 

Clint froze. Blood rushed to his cheeks. “Um.”

“Too fast,” Bobbi guessed with a wince. 

“A little, yeah.” He stood slowly. “Sorry.”

“Is a kiss goodnight too fast?”

Clint smiled. “A kiss goodnight sounds like just the right speed.”

“And I’ll see you tomorrow?” She sidled closer. 

He nodded, cupping her jaw as he kissed her.

***

Clint stumbled to his door in his boxers, hair rumpled. He opened the door and blinked blearily. Brow furrowed, he peered up and down the hall. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought coffee,” Loki replied, smiling benignly. 

Clint took the cup with a frown. “That doesn’t answer my question.” He yawned. “Is this poisoned? You know we’re not supposed to be unsupervised.”

“It’s not poisoned. It’s Natasha’s birthday.” Loki sidled into Clint’s apartment, pulling the door shut behind him. 

“I know when Nat’s birthday is.” He sniffed the coffee suspiciously. 

“If you still want to hurt me, I’m here to let you. Whatever it takes to bring you peace.”

Clint blinked three times and took a long drink from the cup. “Say what now?”

Loki sighed. “What could I possibly give her that would mean more to her than your happiness?” 

“You’re serious.” Clint stared at him.

He nodded in response. “Whatever it takes. I deserve no less.”

Clint drank a little more of the coffee. “Um. Well. Two things: uh, first, I have plans for today. So I’m not going to be available to beat you or whatever. Second: Natasha actually prefers not to acknowledge her birthday. So maybe don’t give her anything.”

“I don’t understand.”

Clint sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Loki straightened up, the weight slipping off his shoulders. “You don’t?”

“If you seek revenge, dig two graves. Hating you isn’t worth my energy anymore.”

“Does that mean you’re forgiving me?” Loki’s face brightened.

“I don’t know. But I’m forgiving myself, so maybe you’re next. Thanks for the coffee.” 

Clint stared at him until Loki shuffled out of the apartment, his brow still furrowed in confusion. 

***

“Have you heard anything from Thor?”

Loki shook his head. “No. If the big oaf has gotten himself killed or brought Asgard to ruin, I’ll be the last to know.”

“If he thought he needed your help, he’d ask. He’s proud, but he’s not stupid.” Natasha set her hand on his arm. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. I understand it’s your birthday, but you don’t celebrate.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, I just -- don’t mention it, okay?”

“Forget I said anything. Dinner? Not for your birthday, of course, just because we both require sustenance.”

“Dinner sounds great. Let’s get greasy, terrible diner food. And pie for dessert. Not because it’s my birthday, but because I like peach pie.”

***

“Mister Laufeyson.”

Loki slitted his eyes and rolled his gaze toward the ceiling. “Stop calling me that.”

“With apologies, your brother indicated that was your proper form of address.”

“Loki. Just call me Loki,” he huffed, turning his attention back to his book.

“Loki.”

He bristled. “What?”

“Go to the roof,” JARVIS instructed.

Loki’s frown deepened. “Why?”

The AI was silent. Curiosity quickly got the better of him, and Loki bookmarked his place. He pulled on his boots and took the elevator all the way up.

The rooftop was lit by the city below. Flecks of white swirled through the air, glinting in the darkness. Natasha stood alone in the middle of the roof, her long coat obscuring her silhouette. 

“What are you doing?” He pitched his voice soft to avoid startling her. 

She slowly rotated to face him. “It’s snowing.”

“I see that. It’s freezing out here.”

A smile spread across her face, beautiful and pure. “I love snow.” The flurries melted into pinpricks of light in her hair, stars in a starless sky. She looked up at the clouds that blotted out the moon. “It won’t stick, we’re not supposed to get much.” 

He approached. The traffic far below them formed an abstract melody.

Natasha closed her eyes, letting the flakes catch on her lashes. 

He slipped his hand around hers. “Then I suppose we should enjoy it while we can.”

She opened her eyes, looking at the snow glittering dimly in his hair and speckling the tops of his shoulders. She rose up on her toes, and he bowed to meet her. Their lips touched, breath fogging and intermingling. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, falling deeper into the kiss. Her tongue swept past his lips, delving into his mouth. The flurries silently eddied around their bodies, pressed together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it should be obvious at this point that I'm completely ignoring any sort of canon or continuity for Agents of SHIELD. Except that Bobbi is still played by Adrianne Palicki in my brain.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor returns following the convergence, bearing news of Frigga's death. Loki, um, doesn't take it well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: Thor is, like, the WORST at delivering bad news. Second: Mind the tags, please. The proverbial shit has hit the fan and, well, it splatters. Warnings for: rough sex, violence, beatings, oral, vaginal, anal, fisting. Loki is into some fucked up shit.

“Are you going to be able to move in this thing?” Bruce frowned at the schematic.

“It’s all hydraulic, self powered.” Tony flipped up his mask and set the soldering iron aside. He took a quick drink and picked up the helmet, immediately putting it back down with a thud. “Wow, this is heavy.”

“I tried to tell you.”

Tony picked his glass back up instead. “It’ll be fine. You, Dum-E, put that somewhere safe.”  He gestured to the new helmet. “This thing is going to be bigger than the other guy.”

“That was the idea, right?” Bruce rapped his knuckles against a piece of armor “Bigger and stronger. I think we should redesign the helmet.”

Tony drained his glass. “I just finished it.”

“And now that I see it in person, I’m worried about the jawline and the neck. If he could get under there, he’d rip it clean off. And possibly your head with it.” He put his hand over the top of Tony’s glass as Tony reached for the bottle.

He set the bottle down with a sigh. “Let’s finish the chest, maybe once we have the shoulders on either side, it won’t be a problem.”

“For the record, I still don’t like the idea of you confronting the other guy.”

***

Thor piled large scoops of garlic mashed potato onto his plate. “Malekith came to avenge the Battle of Svartalfheim. He tried to use the convergence to bring darkness across all of the realms.

“I understood about three of those words,” Tony pointed out, pouring another drink.

“Bad guy, revenge, unlimited power. Leave some for the rest of us,” Jane elbowed Thor, taking the serving spoon out of his hand. “Plus a rare alignment of the realms.”

“We defeated the Dark Elves.” Thor met Loki’s eyes and squirmed slightly. “But victory came at a high cost.”

“What cost?” Loki’s jaw tensed.

“There were casualties.” He bowed his head, shuffling to the side and piling meat next to his potatoes. “Our mother among them.”

Loki took a single step backward. “How?”

Thor froze in dishing up food.

Jane glanced at him hesitantly. “She died protecting me.”  

His stomach knotted. Loki shook his head, his whole body trembling.

“There was nothing that could be done,” Thor whispered. He set his plate down, all pretense of dinner discarded.

“I should have been there.” He blinked back tears, hands clenching into white-knuckled fists.

“You could not have saved her.”

“I could have tried!” The thunder in Loki’s voice was enough to cow even Thor himself.

Thor retreated a step. “It wasn’t my doing.”  

“It will be your undoing.” Loki stalked forward.

Jane stepped between them, putting her hand on Loki’s chest. “Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Don’t tell me what to do!” Loki’s nostrils flared. He slapped her hand aside and spat at her.

Jane leapt out of the way, and Loki stormed past her. Thor’s eyes followed him, brow furrowed.

Natasha strode toward the door.

“Leave him,” Thor advised. “He’s in a foul temper.”

Natasha paused, looked Thor up and down, and kept walking.

***

Natasha knocked just as something crashed inside of Loki’s apartment.

“Bastard!” Loki’s voice travelled through the door.

Natasha knocked again, harder. She heard his footsteps thunder closer, and the door swung open.

“You? What are you doing here?”

“I know you’re hurt,” she said softly.

Loki stalked away from the door. “You know nothing.” He seethed. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She followed him in, closing the door gently. “Do you want to be alone?”

“I should have been there.” His face contorted into a snarl.

She met his gaze with calm eyes. “I know.”

His hand flew, the back of his knuckles striking her cheek. Her head snapped to the side with the force of the blow, but immediately returned to the steady gaze.

“I should not have been cast out.” His voice cracked. His head dropped to his chest. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’m here for you.”

His hands clenched as he looked up at her. “Will you yield to me?” His chest heaved, nostrils flaring.

Natasha gave a subtle nod.

“I won’t be gentle,” he warned.

Her lips curved into a smile. “I wouldn’t know what to do if you were.”

His gaze swept over her body. The decision was made. Loki grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked up. Natasha ducked out of the garment, and he caught her by the arm as she moved away. Shaking fingers dug into her arm. She offered no resistance, landing gracefully as he threw her to the floor. He knelt over her, jerking at the zipper and button that fastened her pants. Frustration contorted his features. He slapped her lightly. “Off. Get those off.”

Natasha kicked off her shoes and peeled off the jeans, her eyes never leaving his. He threw the garment aside and backhanded her as she reached for her underwear. His fingers snaked under the fabric and with a sharp tug, he heard threads pop. He yanked again; at his third effort, the seams gave way.  Grabbing her wrists, he pressed them to the carpet. She parted her legs as he knelt between them.

He let one of her hands go in order to unfasten his pants, freeing his erection. He thrust into her without pretense, and she gasped. He moaned low at the heat, the sting, too much friction from her unprepared body. He set his jaw and bucked fiercely between her thighs. Each thrust brought ripples of pain that quickly vanished behind her placid expression, like stones thrown into a pond. Their bodies thudded against the floor, drowning out the blood pounding in his ears. Soft puffs of her breath hit his neck, carrying her suppressed cries.

He buried himself in her as deeply as he could; the pitch of her cries rose with the penetration. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling down, forcing her head back until her entire back arched. Her eyes squeezed shut, lip curling back to bare her teeth. He pulled out suddenly, leaving her empty and gasping as he leaned back, peeling off his sweat-drenched shirt.

He stood, dragging Natasha to her feet, and spun her to face the couch. He shoved her down so she bent over the arm. From behind her, he drove in deep again. Harsh gasps, punctuated by the sound of their flesh slapping together, filled the air. He drug his nails down her back, raising red welts.

Gripping her hips, he came with a bestial roar. Loki stumbled back a few steps. He left her draped over the arm of the couch and watched her legs quiver while he finished undressing. Naked, he strutted into the kitchenette and filled a glass with water.

Natasha slowly straightened up, standing. His cum oozed down her leg. He stormed over to her, draining his glass in two long gulps.  He smashed it against the carpeted floor. He bloodied his knuckles and her lip against her teeth. As she lifted her head, he grabbed a handful of her hair. He yanked downward.

“Kneel.”

She looked straight into his eyes as she sank to her knees amid the shards of glass.

“Open your mouth.”

She licked her lips and parted them.

He pushed his half-hard cock into her mouth; her tongue stroked along the underside as he held her by the hair. He thrust languidly at first, as his prick hardened in her mouth. She crossed her forearms in the small of her back, hands closed in tight fists. She did her best to look up into his face as he slid deep into her throat, holding position while her air dwindled before dragging back out. The split in her lip left the taste of blood on him as the carpet burned into her knees; her jaw ached. Loki picked up speed, rocking his hips forward and back while Natasha’s eyes watered. He pushed all the way in, smashing her nose into the dark curls at the base of his member, and came again.

Natasha coughed as he released her. He balled his hand into a fist and drove it into her face.

She cried out as she fell back. Pain and fear flickered across her face; she fought the emotions back. As soon as she made eye contact, he slapped her. She swayed like a blade of grass, bending to the whims of the wind. Loki drove his knee into her ribs. She doubled over. His fists fell again, and again, rolling her onto her side, onto her back to strike her face. Blood smeared onto the carpet, crimson on cream. Loki stood and moaned, pressing his palm to his forehead.

He looked down on her with dark eyes. “More.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her up out of the broken glass. She stumbled as he hauled her to his bedroom.

She sprawled across the bed, face down. Loki retrieved a bottle of lubricant from his nightstand, slicking his cock with the clear fluid. He knelt between her legs again, positioning her hips where he wanted them.

Natasha whimpered as he forced his prick past the tight sphincter of her ass. Her lip bled onto the sheets. Her breath came in ugly, sobbing gasps. She keened with every forceful thrust. When he finally came again, she crumpled on the mattress, trembling. He stroked himself and rolled her onto her back. He waited. She looked him in the eye, steady as the horizon.

He swung his fist with his whole body, knocking her head against the mattress. Blood spattered. His fingers probed between her legs. He watched her face, her lips twitching, eyes opening and closing. He pinched the hood of her clit and watched her body buck in response.

“It doesn’t hurt enough.” He stumbled to the bathroom, and she heard water run.

Natasha took the moment to catch her breath and clear her head. He returned. Loki sidled up the mattress, kneeling near her head. The tip of his cock touched her lips.

“Again.”

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. When he was fully hard, he laid back between her legs, penetrating her again.  She was empty and let him fill her. He came again, and pulled out with thin streaks of blood on his cock. He fell onto the bed next to her. He pinched and twisted her nipples until they were tender. Bruises formed on her breasts.

He wrapped one hand around her throat while he worked the other into her aching sex, stretching her until she tore around his knuckles. She cried out weakly but met his gaze, with wet eyes, and he kept going. A sticky mixture of cum, blood and lube stained his sheets.

Dawn broke.

Loki gripped her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, his cock buried in her ass.  Rivulets of sweat coursed over his skin. Natasha’s legs splayed over his shoulders. Her breath came quick and shallow, hoarse whimpers escaping with every pant. Her legs trembled.

His hips stuttered with short thrusts, and this time, he climaxed with a whimper. He collapsed on top of her and mumbled something that might have been an apology. He pulled out and rolled to the side, closing his eyes. And there was rest for the wicked.

The sun burned high above the tower when Loki opened his eyes. The stench of musk and stale cum hung in the air. Natasha had curled into a ball of bruised limbs on her side, facing him. She shivered so hard her teeth chattered. Her eyes were unfocused, shining like the eyes of a doll. He sat up slowly; his gaze drifted over her abused body. Goosebumps and blood and bruises.

She inhaled slowly and held her breath as he reached for her. He unfurled her limbs, spreading her on her back. She blinked back fear, calm acceptance taking its place. He put the lube back into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a small jar. Natasha’s throat bobbed as the mattress shifted with his weight.

His brow furrowed as he plucked a shard of glass from her forearm. He dipped his fingers into the jar. He smoothed the cream over her wound. She shuddered at his touch, watching his face.

“It’s a healing balm. It was sent anonymously from Asgard after my last sparring session with Clint.”

His fingers traced the curve of her neck up, soothing fingerprint bruises there. Her right eye was swollen nearly shut, the flesh dark. He dabbed the balm over the wound. Methodically, he covered the injuries on her face. He sucked his lip between his teeth as he tapped the balm over the split in her lip. He massaged bruises on her wrists and ribs. His touch was light on a tiny pink crescent, carved by his fingernail into the swell of her breast. His caress traveled over her nipples.

He scooped out more of the balm. Her legs twitched as he reached between them.

She shivered, gazing at the ceiling. He hesitated. He watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she drew short, shallow breaths.  

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said soothingly.

Natasha’s eyes were dark as they found his face. “You’re done, then?”

He swallowed solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

She blinked slowly. "I've survived worse."

He cringed and rubbed the balm over the folds of her sex, fingers slipping into her. A shudder passed through her. She whimpered as he worked more balm into her.

He circled the pucker of her anus, pressed inside. Her body jerked. He swirled his finger, spreading the balm over her inner tissues. He felt her eyes boring into him, and he moved on to the bruises on her thighs where his hips had driven against her. Bruises on her hips where his fingers had dug in. Cuts across her knees from broken glass. All down her legs.

Finally, Loki sealed the jar. He set it aside and slunk toward the bathroom.

She watched him retreat and steeled herself. “I forgive you.” Natasha’s voice was clear and strong. “Are you alright?”

He shuffled to face her. The bruise around her eye had vanished already. “I -- thank you.”

He washed his hands, scrubbing blood from under his nails. Loki set out fresh towels from a cabinet in the bathroom and started the water running for a shower. He returned to the bed and held out his hand to Natasha.

She leaned against him, uncertain of her legs, and he led her to the shower. The shower was more than big enough for both of them; Loki positioned her under the spray and worked around her, washing himself quickly. Washing her slowly. His gentle caress displayed stark contrast to his actions just hours earlier.

“Take as long as you like.” Loki stepped out of the stall, leaving her to luxuriate beneath the warm water. He toweled off and stripped the sheets from the bed. He was smoothing fresh linens over the mattress when Natasha emerged from the bathroom.

He patted the bed. “Lay down. Rest. Did you sleep at all after I dozed off?”

Natasha shook her head.

“How’s your pain?”

She sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s gone.” Her voice was flat.

Loki frowned. “Rest.” He disappeared into the kitchenette, towel wrapped around his waist. He found a large wooden cutting board that would suffice as a tray and began to fill it. A glass of water. Another glass, freshly squeezed juice. Two mugs of hot, black coffee. A piece of toast. A small bowl of washed and cut fruit. His was a bit dismayed to see Natasha sitting exactly where he’d left her. He set the board on the nightstand precariously.

“Please.” He ducked in front of her so he could look up into her face. “Eat. Drink. Rest. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Her eyes burned into his.

“I did tell you that you shouldn’t be here,” he objected quietly.

“I told you, I forgive you.”

“You let me hurt you.” Loki stared up at her. “Why?”

“It seemed like what you needed at the time.” Natasha picked up one of the coffee mugs.

Loki took the other and sat cross-legged on the floor. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re just a man.” She warmed her fingers on the outside of the mug. “Although most men can’t go seven times in one night.”

“My previous record was four before she asked me to stop.” His cheeks warmed at the memory. “I would have stopped if you’d asked.”

“Did you want to stop?” She pulled the bowl of fruit into her lap.

Loki shook his head. “I’m grateful you didn’t ask.” He watched her eat and drink with bright, attentive eyes. “I'm not sure if I should thank you or apologize again.”

“Don't apologize.”

Loki sipped his coffee. “Thank you.”

His hair dried into soft waves. So did hers. When she finished, he took the tray back into the kitchen.

Loki rinsed the dishes and set them aside to wash later. He returned to the bedroom. Natasha was curled on her side again, eyes closed, her face composed. He crept up slowly and pulled a blanket over her. He gathered clothes and dressed in the living room.

***


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh G-d, it gets worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: dubiously consensual bondage, Non-consensual knife play, past sexual trauma.

Natasha padded out of the bedroom, wrapped in the blanket. Loki looked up, his eyes bloodshot, cheeks blotchy, and stood.   
“I’m okay,” Natasha assured him, a tremulous trace of a smile on her lips. “Are you?”  
“Not really.” He shook his head. “How could she do this to me?”  
Her brows knit together in a frown. “What? Die?”  
“Yes!”   
She shuffled closer. “I could offer trite platitudes about how we all get our time and she’ll live on in your heart.” She reached for him, fingers warm against his cheek. “The truth is that death is brutally unfair and it sucks and it’s okay to be angry.”  
He stroked the back of her hand and leaned into her touch. “May I kiss you?”  
Natasha’s cocked one eyebrow at him.   
He pursed his lips. “I don’t want to be alone. I was hoping that if I was kind to you, I could convince you to stay.”  
“You can kiss me.”  
His lips were soft and warm, pressing against hers with a burning need. He gave her blanket a gentle tug and it fell to the floor, puddling at her feet. He wrapped his arms around her, the kiss deepening. Her body pressed against him. He bent his knees as she wrapped her legs around him, hoisting her up. He carried her to the bedroom and lowered her onto the bed.   
Loki quickly stripped off his clothes, exposing himself to her unfathomable eyes. He kissed her again, needful and deep.   
His lips trembled against her ear. “Thank you.”  
He trailed kisses down her neck, shivering as she bared her throat to him. He mouthed her breast, drawing the firm peak of her nipple into his mouth, and she arched her back. Lust coiled in his gut as he stroked her smooth skin, but he vowed to give her as much pleasure as she could take before slaking it.   
He eased his way down between her legs and placed a tender kiss on her mound. Her thighs flexed on either side of his face. Warm breath flooded over the folds of her sex. She shuddered and carded her fingers through his hair. He whined quietly as she tugged him away.   
“What are you doing?” Natasha’s crooked smile was as mysterious as Mona Lisa’s.   
Loki frowned. “I sought to please you. To make up a bit for my selfishness last night. I’m not always terrible.” He pulled himself back up the bed to lay next to her. “What did I do wrong?”  
“Nothing.” She shook her head quickly. “I just don’t derive any pleasure from --” she glanced down pointedly. “That.”  
His lips twisted in a smirk. “You’ve never had it done by a man they call ‘silver-tongued’.” He licked his lips, waggling his eyebrows.  
“I’m sure your technique is impressive.” She reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of his face. “It has nothing to do with you.”  
His smirk faded, his brow creased. He caught her hand and kissed her fingers. “What does it have to do with?”  
Her mouth twitched. “Scar tissue. Nerve damage. At best, it’s tedious. Pretending to enjoy it while I wonder if there’s anything good on tv.” She kept her tone light.  
His grip tightened on her hand. “And at worst?”   
“It’s a nightmare.” She wriggled free from his grasp. “Come on, we don’t have to talk about it. We can just--”  
“Do you enjoy sex at all?”   
“Not physically.” Goosebumps rose on her arms at the admission. “But it’s okay. It’s really okay.”   
“That’s not okay. How did you come to have scar tissue there?” His eyes raked down her naked body.  
“There was a man.” She shifted under his gaze. “With a knife.” Her voice trembled.   
“I understand.” He stroked her cheek and pressed his thumb to the center of her lips. “You don’t have to say any more.” He pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her, and placed a kiss on her forehead. He closed his eyes, breathing the scent of her hair. He could see it, in his mind’s eye, the gleaming silver blade in the soft pink folds.   
His eyes opened slowly, an idea forming. “Close your eyes. Spread your legs.”  
“What are you going to do?”  
He sat up and stretched across the bed, digging the jar of healing balm out of the drawer. He held up the jar for her to see.   
She shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”  
“I want you to experience a pleasure few mortal women will ever know.” His smirk reappeared.  
A light chortle burst from her lips. “With an ego like that, you better have something to back it up.”   
“I --” His stomach knotted. “I need to do this for you. I have little to offer but this, oh this, I can give. Please.”  
The edge of her lower lip slipped between her teeth. “You did say please. I guess if it doesn’t work, I haven’t lost anything.”  
Natasha centered herself on the mattress, spreading her legs. Loki wrapped a woven scarf around her ankle and began tying it the bed frame.  
“What are you doing?” Natasha pulled her legs in.   
“Tying you down.” His fingers wrapped around her ankle, trying to pull her leg back straight.  
“I didn’t agree to that.”  
He frowned. “Trust me. Please. You just have to yield to me once more. I don’t want you squirming about during this.” He tilted his head. “Well?”  
A frown creased her face. “I’m thinking.”  
Loki drew her foot to the corner of the bed, securing her ankle and moving to the other leg. “I’ll stop at your word,” he promised. “It’ll be so much more than okay. Please.” He held out a third scarf. “Hands above your head.”  
Natasha leaned back, lifting her hands above her head. He wove the scarf through the filigree of the headboard, binding her wrists together.  
“Not too tight?”  
She shook her head. She twisted her arms. She couldn’t pull free, but she could probably pick out the knots in a few seconds.   
“Please close your eyes.”  
“Are you sure about this?” Natasha’s brow furrowed.   
“Have you ever known sexual pleasure?”  
She nodded once.  
“You could know it again.” Loki stroked her leg. “I feel more than a little guilty about last night. Let me make things right.”  
Her eyes closed slowly, her face creased with uncertainty.   
Loki opened the jar and set it on the mattress between her legs, the glass cool against her thigh. She felt the bed shift as he stood up and opened her eyes to see him standing at the dresser, his back blocking her view. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes again. Loki peered over his shoulder.   
He traipsed back to the bed, knife tight in his grip. He knelt between her legs, holding the blade behind his back in case she opened her eyes, and placed his empty hand just above her mound to hold her in place.   
Natasha jolted at his touch, a warm hand pressing down on her.   
“Still,” he said quietly. “It’s alright.”  
She drew a slow breath.  
“Just a moment’s pain. Don’t move.” His voice was low and soothing as the tip of the blade scraped across her, the sharpened steel sliding easily through her skin. Her eyes flew open. “No!” Natasha bucked against the bonds.  
“It won’t work on old wounds.” He pressed his shins against her thighs, pinning her legs beneath his weight. “Hold still. I won’t cut you any deeper than I have to.” His voice shook. The blade bit into the tender flesh.   
“No,” Natasha whimpered. “No, please. Stop!”  
She thrashed and screamed wordlessly as Loki withdrew the knife and set it aside. He took a handful of the balm, and slathered it over the wound, blood mixing with the pale cream. Natasha writhed, scrabbling at the scarf above her head. Tears streamed down her cheeks.   
“It's over. It’s done. It’s over.” Loki‘s touch lingered between her legs. “Now, isn’t that bet-”  
Her hand collided with his nose with a wet crack, and Loki rocked back. Another blow caught him beneath the jaw, thrusting him aside. He tumbled off the bed.   
Natasha sobbed, her face flushed. She seized the knife off the mattress. “Stay back!”   
Loki stood, cupping his nose while blood dripped into his palm.   
When she twisted away from him to free her leg, Loki stole forth and picked up the jar. “If I had told you, you wouldn't have let me. I’m sorry.”   
“You said you’d stop.” Her voice shook. She scrambled to her feet, wielding the knife to keep him at bay.   
Loki froze, pinching the tip of his nose. “I did stop. I pulled the knife away, but you were struggling.” He glanced at her naked body. “Do you need more?” He held out the jar.  
She inched toward the door and bolted.  
He dabbed the balm onto his pinky and worked it up into his nose, tugging down at the bridge. “I'm sorry!” He set the jar aside and hastily pulled on his pants, following her into the living room.  
She was already gone, the apartment door standing open in her wake.   
“Natasha!” he called, giving chase.  
“Hey!” A hand closed around Loki’s arm; he skidded to a stop at the door to the stairwell.  
Tony frowned at him. “JARVIS alerted me to a possible security concern. Is everything all right here?”  
“I--” Loki looked desperately toward the stairs. “I’ve made a mistake.” He drew a deep breath. “I should give her time.”  
“Her? Natasha?” Tony followed his gaze. “What did you do?”  
Loki retreated a few steps. “I made a mistake.”  
“Don’t make me regret keeping you here.”  
***  
Natasha took the stairs two at a time. JARVIS had her door unlocked when she reached her apartment, and she barrelled in, panting. She went straight to the shower, turning the water on as hot as possible. She let the pounding spray drown out her sobs, the water taking the sting out of her tears. She scrubbed at the blood on her thighs until her skin turned bright pink and she didn’t know if she was stained or flushed. Leaning against the tiled wall, she sank to the floor of the shower. She shivered even as the steam billowed around her. Water eddied around her feet. Steam rose, filling the room. The shower slowly cooled. Her breathing slowed. She pulled herself to her feet and stumbled out of the shower. The water shut off.   
“JARVIS?” She gripped the edge of the counter for support.  
“Yes, Agent Romanov?”  
Natasha wrapped a towel around her body. “Maximum security. I don’t care if the tower is on fire, don’t let Loki anywhere near me.”  
“Yes, Agent Romanov.”  
Natasha pressed the water out of her hair with another towel. “Can you scan me for injuries?”  
“Elevated pulse and blood pressure. No physical injuries detected.”  
She wiped the fog off of the mirror and opened the towel. No bruises. No marks. She stared at her reflection.   
“May I contact Agent Barton?” JARVIS asked.  
“No.” Tears came again, running slow and heavy down her cheeks. She pulled the towel tight around her. Staggering to the toilet, she sank to the floor. She leaned over the bowl, stomach convulsing. She retched and gagged but failed to bring anything forth. “Is he here in the tower?”  
“He is, and he seems to be unoccupied.”   
Natasha drew a deep breath. “Call him.”  
“Right away, Agent Romanov.”   
Natasha was experienced in hearing a facial expression in a person’s voice, but there was something about hearing an AI’s smile that struck her as not being quite as odd as it should have been. It took a long time for her to pick herself up off the floor and dress in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt she’d stolen from Steve.   
***  
Clint set four takeout boxes on the counter and looked Natasha over. “Are you okay?”  
She shook her head. “Maybe you were right about Loki.”  
Clint frowned. “Did something happen? Did he hurt you?”  
“I thought I could trust him. I was such an idiot.”  
Clint put his hand on her arm gently. “You’re worrying me.” His frown deepened as he cocked his head to the side. “What happened?”  
“I don’t know. I slept with him.”  
“You slept with him?” Clint’s eyes widened. “And he hurt you?”  
She shook her head. “That wasn’t -- I mean, that hurt but that’s not --”   
“What did he do to you?” Anger was sharp in his voice.  
She shrank from him, and Clint immediately regretted it.   
“I’m going to talk to him.” He kept his voice calm.  
“Clint, no.” Natasha shook her head.  
“I’ll use my words,” he promised.   
“Clint.” She eyed him sharply. “Please don’t.”  
“I brought Chinese food.” He began opening the boxes.  
“Why did I ever think it was a good idea to trust him?”  
Clint sighed. “You want what I want, what most people want. You want a relationship and it starts with trust. I thought he was earning it too. He obviously crossed some kind of line. And you don’t have to tell me what it was.” He dished up food and set a plate in front of her. “But I do want to know if you’re going to be okay.”   
She poked at her food with a pair of chopsticks. “I really wanted this to work,” she admitted.  
He got out a fork, sitting across from her.  
“But I guess Icarus wanted to fly.” She stared at her plate, picking a snow pea out from under a pile of lo mein.   
Clint picked up his fork, skewered a piece of chicken and put it in his mouth, chewing aggressively. He stabbed another bite of his dinner. “I liked it better when he was irritating me by making you happy.”  
Natasha snorted softly. “Same.”  
They didn’t talk as they finished eating.   
“Do you want to put on movie or something?” Clint offered.  
“I’m okay. You can go.”  
“Yeah, I’m going to put on a movie. Top Gun?”  
Natasha fell asleep leaning against his shoulder on the couch. Clint eased his way out from under her weight and headed to the range.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three important conversations with, and about, Loki

Thor hadn’t seen such dark circles under Loki’s eyes since their arrival on Midgard. His brother stared blankly at him. “I came to check on your before I return to Asgard.”

“You’re going back?” Loki frowned. “Already?”

Thor nodded. “Father needs me.”

Green eyes narrowed at him. “To keep things running smoothly as he grieves. To comfort and sooth him. While I was not even permitted to return for her funeral rites.”

Thor looked past him, his gaze settling on the broken glass and dark stains ground into the carpet. “Has Lady Natasha been to see you?”

Loki followed his gaze. His jaw tensed as he gave a single, slow nod. 

“What is her fate?”

“I didn’t kill her.” Loki rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

“I admit, I never understood the darkness in you. That is blood dried on your floor, is it not?”

“It is, and it’s hers.” He swallowed. “But I healed her wounds when --” Loki hesitated, his gaze dropping to his entwined hands, “when I was done.”

Thor drew up to his full height, and Loki would have sworn he heard a distant peal of thunder. “I cannot tell him that you’ve changed when you haven’t.”

“I have changed. I am changing. The darkness in me is Odin extinguishing every glimmering fleck of illumination. And while you try to shame me for it, she lights a beacon. Something to navigate by.”

“A beacon will sputter out if it’s not tended to.” Thor’s eyes were dark as a stormfront and more ominous. “Where is Natasha?”

“She left. There was a misunderstanding, and she left.”

Thor shook his head, his posture softening somewhat. “She tried harder than anyone to understand you. She loves you, you idiot. And you cannot blame me or Odin or anyone but yourself for whatever transpired here.”

A raven preened on Loki’s balcony. 

Loki shrank from his brother. “I used the balm you brought from Asgard. On the injuries I caused her. But there was also an old wound. I only wanted to restore her. To take away her pain. I had to cut into the scar in order to heal it. I was trying to help.”

“By causing more pain?” His hands closed around Loki’s shoulders, tension running through his arms. “If I thought I could shake sense into you, I’d try.” 

“Once she realizes everything is healed, she’ll come around. She’ll forgive me. This was for her benefit.”

“Very convincing.” Thor released him.

Loki interlaced his fingers, his hands sliding together. “What should I do?”

“Avail yourself of her merciful nature and beg forgiveness.”

***

“Ow!” Pain flashed through Loki’s knuckles, racing up his arm. He frowned at the door. “What the Hel was that?”

“Agent Romanov, Loki is here.”

Natasha blinked twice in rapid succession, stretching her shoulders as she rose from the couch gracefully. Her gaze fell on the knife she’d taken from Loki’s quarters. The sight of it made bile burn in the back of her throat. She picked up the weapon, feeling it’s weight in her hand. “Let him in.”

The door swung open. Loki stood in the hall, shaking the pins-and-needles feeling out of his hand. He shifted a bouquet of roses from the crook of his elbow and held them out. “These are for you.”

The roses were a vivid, almost florescent, coral pink, the color of a call girl’s lipstick.

“Incinerator’s down the hall.” She stepped into the doorway, blocking him from entering the apartment. 

His shoulders sagged. “Natasha, please. Be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” She echoed. She slapped him. “That was reasonable. I could’ve used this!” She shoved the knife toward his face.

Loki stumbled back a step; he brought the bouquet up between them, wielding it as a shield.. “Natasha! I was trying to help you. I understand that it hurt, but I healed you.”

Her eyes widened; her knuckles went white around the handle of the knife. “You raped me with a knife.” She backed away, step by step.

Loki paled. He shuffled into her apartment as she retreated. His cheeks went slack. The roses hit the carpet. 

“I didn’t,” he stammered. “I wouldn’t. Alright, there was a time not that long ago when I might have, but I wouldn’t now.” He shook his head. 

“I was stupid to trust you,” Natasha whispered venomously. 

“Please,” Loki’s voice cracked. 

“You admitted that you knew I wouldn’t agree to it if you told me what you were going to do.” Her voice rose with the sense of panic gripping her. “You violated me. My body. My trust.” Natasha shuddered. Tears burned down her cheeks.

“That wasn’t my intent,” he protested.

“Your intent?” She fixed with with a cold glare. “Your intent was to penetrate me without my consent.”

Loki pressed his lips together and cast his gaze to the floor. “I acted without malice, I swear. I think I’ve fallen a little bit in love with you,” he confessed. 

“I didn’t ask you to heal me. I was fine with things the way they were. This was all you -- you trying to mold me to better suit your desires.” Her voice dripped with disgust. “You don’t know what love is, and you aren’t capable of it.”

He looked at her, falling to his knees. “Then give me the knife back,” he whispered tremulously. “Here.” He tapped the center of his chest.

Natasha shook her head, rolling her eyes. “You have a real knack -- a gift even -- for making everything all about you.” She slammed the knife down on the end table with a clatter. “Take it and go.” She backed away. 

“I -- I’m sorry,” he stammered. He slowly gathered the scattered flowers from the floor.

“That’s still about you.” She skirted the couch, putting a little furniture between them. 

He froze, abandoning the bouquet. She watched his eyes flick around the room, his mind searching for a correct response. 

Loki nodded and drew a deep breath, rising to his feet. “How -- how are you?” He bit his lower lip. “How are you feeling?”

“Not good.” She shook her head.

“How can I help?”

Her lips pressed together. She shook her head and swallowed hard. “I want you to think about Asgard. About your punishment there.”

Loki bristled at her request.

“Remember that pain, that fear, that sense of being wronged.”

He took a step back. “I don’t--”

“Now imagine that I promised you pleasure, promised you something you haven’t felt in half a lifetime.” Natasha slowly stalked towards him. “And promised I would resolve the scars left behind by your torment.” She lightly touched the front of his shirt. 

Loki shied away, running his fingers down the scar that ran the full length of his torso.

“But instead, I delivered you an echo of the same pain Odin inflicted.” She batted his hand aside and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Would you rush to forgive me?”

He shook his head, goosebumps prickling over his skin. “I don’t know how -- or if -- I could. Would it comfort you to speak of it?”

She released him, and he smoothed his shirt with a tug. Natasha retreated a few steps. Her brows knitted together as she turned away. “No.”

She shuddered at the light touch on her arm and looked up into Loki’s face. “What do you need?” he whispered hoarsely.

Natasha glanced at his hand on her arm.

His touch lingered.

“I’d like you to go,” she said calmly.

Loki nodded, withdrawing his hand. “As you wish.”

“Take the knife,” she added. “Leave the roses.”

He did as she asked. After he was gone, she gathered the bruised flowers, arranging them into a vase on the counter. She touched the pad of her finger to a thorn, not pressing hard enough to pierce the skin, just enough to feel it.

***

A quarter mile of red and gold rubberized track surrounded the gym. Clint ran, headphones on, sweat soaking patterns on his heathered-grey t-shirt. Loki fell in step beside him. Clint glanced sideways at him and pulled away the headphones on that side. “Bad idea.”

“What have I done?” 

Clint’s running sputtered to a stop. “I don’t know, she wouldn’t say.” He panted, slowly catching his breath. “But she’s hurt, hurt worse than I’ve seen in a long time. And if I beat the shit out of you, I’m probably going to get kicked out.”

A frown flickered over Loki’s face as he considered the words.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t,” Clint clarified. “Except that I also get the feeling that’s what you want.”

“I should suffer consequences for what I’ve done.” 

Clint turned away and began walking the track at an ever-increasing pace. Loki scurried to catch up. “I should.”

“That’s not on me.” Clint broke into a run. His feet came down harder than necessary. 

Loki dropped behind and turned, running the opposite direction until they came face to face on the far side of the track. 

“Just leave me alone. Just leave her the hell alone.” Clint moved to step past him.

Loki side stepped to block his path. “Hit me.”

“No. Fuck off.”

His jaw trembled and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I hurt her. Not in the way that I intended to, not in a way that I can come back from.”

“You don’t seem to be trying very hard.”

“I’ve apologized, she has no interest in hearing it,” Loki objected.

“I’m even less interested.” Clint waved for him to move aside. He put his headphones back on and turned up the volume so loud Loki could hear the beat of his music. 

Loki stepped to the edge of the track and watched Clint run a lap. He caught him as he came around. “I don’t know what to do.”

Clint sighed and yanked the headphones off. “I told you, fuck off. Fuck right the fuck off.”

“I need her in my life. Please.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you did whatever it was you did.” Clint panted. “You are ruining my cardio.”

Loki’s head dropped toward his chest. “I raped her.” He paled to hear the words fall from his lips.

Barton froze, fingers on the cord of his headphones. His eyes glazed over. He pushed past Loki and went straight to the heavy bag, laying into it with a punch followed by an elbow. 

“I --” Loki cleared his throat. He stalked over and put his hand on Clint’s shoulder. “I said I raped her.”

Clint paused in walloping the bag just long enough to pull his headphones into place. Loki snatched them away, pulling them all the way off Clint’s head.

“With a knife. I--”

“I’m not going to kill you!” Clint’s voice echoed through the gym. 

Loki flinched, his shoulders coming up as his head ducked between them.

A muscle twitched in Clint’s jaw as he spoke through clenched teeth. “I am not interested in showing you mercy or giving you any sort of comfort.” He drew a shuddering breath. “Right now, you’re just torturing us both.”

Loki’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t live without her.”

“You’d be surprised what you can live without.” He plucked his headphones out of Loki’s hands. “Fingers, for example, if you ever touch her again.”

“Anything but her.” Loki swallowed hard. “I’m not as strong as you are.” The words tasted foul in his mouth; was humility always so bitter?

Clint pressed his eyes closed, inhaled, and slowly opened them. “Get stronger.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go dramatically sideways remarkably fast. (Or, in which the author remembers that there are characters OTHER than Loki that she was doing things with)

Loki knocked on Natasha’s door early, armed with coffee, slices of melon, and a croissant. “What’s this?” Natasha furrowed her brow.

Loki drew a deep breath. “Your breakfast.”

She stared at him until he began to shift his weight in discomfort. She made no move to reach for the food.

“I thought -- well, truthfully, I don’t know where to begin to apologize for my actions, my inexcusably selfish behavior,” he admitted. “I thought breakfast was as good a place as any. If there’s something you’d like for lunch, just ask.”

“You’re bringing me food now?” Her voice and expression remained flat.

“Whatever your heart desires. With your permission, I’d like to take care of your laundry and clean your quarters. I’m also ready to run any errands that you need performed.”

Natasha’s eyes lit up with comprehension. “You’re serving me.”

He looked down, shuffling his foot across the carpet. He nodded mutely without looking up. 

“Not today.”

His head drooped, but Loki left without objection. 

***

Coffee. A grapefruit. A bagel. “Good morning, Miss Romanova.”

She looked at the tray. Natasha took the coffee and closed the door in Loki’s face. 

***

“He’s been bringing me breakfast in the morning.” Natasha frowned at the bow. “The tension on this thing is all screwy.” 

“Breakfast?” Clint took the weapon out of her hand. 

“And roses, twice. And he wants to clean my apartment and run errands for me.” 

“The bow is fine, I think you might be screwy.” Clint handed it back.

“I want to forgive him.”

“Don’t,” he advised.

Natasha frowned. “I thought you had, or at least had started to.”

“This is different,” Clint insisted. 

“He didn’t kill anyone this time.” She drew the bow again. 

Clint gritted his teeth. “He betrayed you. I know firsthand how hard-won your trust is.” He stepped behind her, his hands overlapping hers. He tilted his head over her shoulder.

“And you know I don’t give up on the people who’ve earned it.” She leaned away to look at him.

“Eyes on the target.”

“Are you going to hate me if I try to make this work?”

Clint released the bow. “I’ll never hate you. I know you love him, I know you want him to love you, but you deserve better.”

Her head dropped and she rubbed her brow. “You didn’t see his face. He really didn’t mean--”

“Good intentions aren’t worth shit, Natasha.” Clint stepped forward. “Hey.” He put one finger under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his eyes. “You deserve better.”

“He can be better. He can do better.”

He sighed. “He could never be good enough for you.”

She pulled away from his touch. “Let him try.”

***

Coffee. Berries. A delicate flaky pastry with a sweet cheese filling. “Good morning, Miss Romanova. I’d like permission to serve you.”

She took the whole tray, balancing it on one hand, and Loki slipped his foot past the door jamb before she could shut him out. 

“Please?”

Natasha lifted the coffee cup, inhaling the aroma. “It’s my turn to do the dishes for team dinner tonight. You do it.”

Loki nodded. “Thank you, I will.” 

***

Bruce stormed into the gym, leaning into every hurried step. He reached the wall and gripped the barre with both hands, head bowed, breathing heavy. His entrance could not go unnoticed; Natasha pressed her palms against the heavy bag, stilling its movement. Bruce sank into a half lotus position, eyes squeezed shut. He dropped his head onto his palms. 

“Bruce?” Natasha unwrapped her hands, approaching with caution. 

He looked up at her, eyes brown. “He can’t even stand up. He’s literally falling down drunk.” Bruce shook his head. “I can’t deal with him like this.”

“It’s okay.” Her fingers trailed along the barre as she moved closer. “You don’t have to.” Natasha dropped into a crouch next to him. “We put too much of this on you; it’s not fair. I’ll go up to the lab.”

Bruce sighed, dropping his gaze as he shook his head again. “I thought it’d get better, but it stayed the same and now it’s getting worse.”

“It’s going to keep getting worse. Someone busted Slattery out of prison.” Natasha kept her voice low.

“What?”

“We’re not telling Stark, obviously. Clint’s on his way to Seagate with a team.”

“This couldn’t come at a worse time.” Bruce clenched his teeth as he spoke, tendons sharpening in his neck. He drew a deep breath, flexing his hands. 

“I know.” Natasha paused to reflect. “It's almost the anniversary. Then her birthday.” She shook her head. “We're in for a rough couple of months. He’s been self-destructive for as long as I’ve known him. The drinking is out of hand, and JARVIS says he’s having suicidal ideations. Again.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “How are you doing on that front?”

“I’m -- uh….” Bruce looked away quickly as he answered. “I don’t know. I thought was doing better, but maybe I just gave up on finding a method that’ll work.” He stopped and swallowed and stared at the floor.

“That’s not better.” Her hand alighted on his knee. 

“I have literally no way out.” He met her gaze slowly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t tell Tony.”

“Bruce.” She put her arm over his shoulders. “Oh, Bruce, I’m so sorry.”

“Please.” Bruce barely recognized the hoarse whisper that passed through his lips. “Talk to him.”

Natasha nodded. “I'm not sure I can help him. I'm not sure any of us can, but I'll try.”

He threw his arms around her and squeezed fiercely. “Thank you.”

***

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you without a drink in your hand.”

Tony sighed, tension rippling across his shoulders. He set the bottle down with a hefty thunk and slitted his eyes at Natasha. “It’s not that big a deal.” He held up both hands. “See? No drink.”

“Bruce is worried about you.”

He reached for the scotch and stopped, clasping his hands in his lap instead. “Bruce worries. It’s a hobby. Like the yoga.”

“If the rest of us weren’t so busy being selfish, I think we’d all be worried.” Natasha shrugged. “Instead I stay preoccupied and pretend that you’ll pull yourself out of this tailspin.”

“It’s like those people who are in a catastrophic accident and they have to relearn how to walk and eat and all that. Every day, I wake up and I feel like I’ve forgotten all over again, even how to breathe. But if I drink enough, it’s like she’s on a business trip and she’ll be back in a few days.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Natasha replied. “Tony, if you need a hand, reach out and grab one. We’re all here.”

“It’s not an addiction.” He looked down at his hands. “It just helps pass the time.”

Natasha sat on the floor next to him. “Lot of hours to pass.”

“The days get so long. And the nights -- hoo-boy.”

“I know it’s hard.”

“You don’t know anything about it.” His voice lacked conviction. 

“No,” Natasha agreed, “I don’t.” She picked up the bottle, examining the label. 

Tony frowned. “What happened between you and Loki anyway?”

She leaned over, bumping her shoulder against his. “I must be slipping.”

“I like to think I'm getting better at figuring you out.”

Natasha sighed. “I didn’t get what I wanted, but I guess neither did he. Lose lose.”

“Yeah. I don't know if you know this, but he's been hanging around the lab with little hearts floating in front of his eyes.” He slid his empty glass over next to her hand. “So if there's any chance for him to redeem himself and come back from this, maybe, I don't know. What I'm saying is, if --God forbid -- he died suddenly, what would your regrets be?”

She poured a little scotch into the glass and raised it as though to toast. “All of it.”

Tony pulled the bottle away from her grasp deftly, clicking its neck against the rim of her glass. “To regrets.” 

Natasha put her hand on the bottle before he could bring it to his lips. “Tony, there are a hundred options beyond the bottom of this bottle.”

“Yeah, once I finish the scotch, there’s brandy, vodka, bourbon. If I get really desperate, beer.”

“I think she meant actual help.” Bruce leaned against the frame of the door. “Psychologists, psychiatrists, AA.”

Natasha slowly stood as she noticed Steve behind Bruce, lingering the hallway. 

JARVIS’s voice intruded. “Per your request, sir.” A screen flickered to life in the center of the lab. 

“--live from Seagate prison, the target of a breakout late last night. Prison officials have said that only one prisoner succeeded in breaking out. We’ve just confirmed the identity of that prisoner to be Trevor Slattery. Slattery was convicted in May....”

Tony hauled himself to his feet. An image of a mugshot floated in front of the prison exterior. “Did you know about this?”

“Barton’s already there, we’re going to find him, Tony. And when we do --” Natasha’s head snapped to the side as Tony slapped her. 

Bruce gasped. 

Natasha cracked her neck and leveled her gaze at Tony. “And when we do, we’ll throw him in the deepest, darkest hole you’ve ever seen.” 

Tony’s hand flew again, and she caught him by the wrist.

“You only get one, I don’t care how drunk you are.”

The door to the stairwell slammed shut as Bruce fled.

She shook her head. “Now look at what you’ve done.” She glared at Tony. “Rogers, tag in. I’ll get Banner.”

Tony began glugging down the scotch, knuckles white around the neck of the bottle. 

“Hey!” Steve strode across the lab. “Slow down.”

“I’ll slow down when I pass out.” He swatted at Steve as the captain reached for his liquor. “If you don’t like it, fuck off. Get out. You don’t even have to live here.” The words spilled out faster and faster. “I took you in as a charity case, Rogers. Because you had nowhere else to go. No friends. No family. I did you a favor.” Tony’s voice rose in volume. 

“And now I’m asking you to do another. Stop. Sober up.” Steve remained calm. “Pepper would want you to get help.”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say her name. You weren’t there. You don’t have to live without her, knowing it’s your fault she’s not here.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t kill Pepper.” Steve voice came out louder than he’d intended. “Aldrich Killian killed Pepper.”

“Yeah, I just failed to save her.” Tony tipped back the bottle again. 

“Keep it up, she won’t be the last.” 

“Get out.” He flung the scotch at Steve. “Get the fuck out of my tower!”

“I’m trying to help you!” Steve jumped out of the way of the projectile.

“You’ve never done anything but look down on me. I don’t need your help, you self-righteous son of a bitch.” Tony frantically sought out something else to throw, settling on a small wrench. 

It clattered to the floor, a solid yard off its mark. Steve didn’t even bother to dodge. 

“You need someone’s.” He took a step back. “I’m never sure if we’re going to be able to count on you.”

“That’s nothing new.” Tony picked up an empty bottle from the workbench, tilting it as though new content might have appeared. “Nothing I do is good enough for you. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve sighed. “Tony, I’m sorry, okay? This isn’t you.”

“Are you kidding? I’m being the best version of myself.” He threw his arms out wide. “I’m Iron Man!”

“Do you even know what day it is? When’s the last time you showered? Or ate?”

Tony hurled the empty bottle at him. “I don’t need another disappointed father figure. Get. Out.”

Steve shook his head and backed out of the lab, the bottle shattering against the door frame. Loki stood outside the elevator. Steve looked at the bottle of wine in his hands. “You’re not seriously bringing him more alcohol?”

“No. No, this is for me. I believe you’ve been dismissed.”

Steve glowered at him. 

Loki craned his neck looking up at the super soldier. He was nearly as tall as Thor. Nearly. 

“If you make this worse, so help me --”

“I don’t know that I could do any worse than you already have.” Loki waved toward the elevator. “Ta-ta.”

Steve watched Loki saunter into the lab and lowered his head in defeat, boarding the elevator.

***


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just...Tony. Tony, Tony, babe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning for really strong suicidal ideation.

Bruce stood at the entrance of reinforced room they’d affectionately dubbed ‘the green room.’ His hands pressed against the door frame, shoulders heaving. 

“How you feeling?” Natasha hung back, giving him plenty of space. 

“Angry.” His voice was surprisingly calm. 

“You going in?” Standing behind him, she watched his sides, timing his breaths. 

“Maybe we should evacuate instead. I’ll just destroy the whole tower. Tear it down. Everything we’ve worked for.”

“You don’t mean that.” She inched closer.

Bruce turned slowly to face her. “Does it bother you at all that he just hit you?”

“Not really.” Natasha shrugged. “He’s got a flair for the dramatic. It didn’t hurt, Bruce, it was for shock value.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

She nodded. “If I had thought about how it would make you feel -- and you’re completely justified in your feelings -- I would have blocked the first one. I figured there was no harm in letting him get it out of his system. But it was harmful to you. I’m sorry.”

“God, don’t apologize for getting hit.” Bruce put both hands over his mouth, sucking in a deep breath. He held it as his fingers curled into fists. He clenched his eyes shut, dropping his forehead onto his knuckles. He let the air out slowly, rocking back and forth. 

“Bruce, I’m okay.”

“I know.”

“You’re not. Is there anything I can do?”

“I think I have to go.” His eyes opened slowly. Brown. “I can’t stay here.”

“I have a safe house, a studio apartment in Chelsea. You could stay there while you figure out your next move.”

A frown flickered across his brow. He tilted his head. “Why do you keep a place so close to the tower?”

“You never know.”

***

“Want to get wasted and find out if you’re bisexual?” Loki held up the wine bottle. 

“I’m already pretty wasted,” Tony acknowledged. “And I found out in college.” He nodded and mouthed the word ‘yes’. 

“You use liquor to self-sooth.” He picked up a screw from the workbench and a screwdriver. “I use conquest. Worlds. People.” Loki shrugged and drove the screw into the cork of the wine with slow turns. “I didn’t know. About the man who escaped from prison or about your -- Pepper was her name? I don’t have anywhere else to go if you kick me out, so I thought I should come and assert my innocence.” 

Tony barked a harsh laugh. “Your innocence. That’s funny.”

“Did you love her?” He set the screwdriver aside and picked up a crowbar, carefully leveraging the cork out of the bottle. 

“It wasn’t just that I loved her.” He swallowed. “I did love her, but she loved me. She believed in me. No one has believed in me since my mom died.”

Hairs rose on the back of Loki’s neck. “When was that?”

“Twenty-two years and four days ago.” Tony found another bottle, this one gin and nearly full. “You know, you and your brother are the only people living here who aren’t orphans.”

“I am now. Frigga proudly claimed me as her son. Odin didn’t. Won’t.” Loki sniffed the wine. “And now, like you, like Barton, I’ve lost the one I love as well.”

“Natasha’s not dead. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“I’m not.” He took a swig out of the bottle. “Tell me more about Pepper.”

“She was working for Stark Industries when I took over. I promoted her to my personal assistant immediately. I don’t even remember what she did before.”

Talking slowed Tony’s drinking. Loki took over mixing gin and tonics for him, heavy on the tonic water.  He’d been slurring his words when he was yelling at Steve, but his speech grew clearer. 

***

“Last Christmas, almost a year ago, I lost her.” Tony stood, abandoning his glass, and swayed on his feet. “I can still see her face.”

Loki slowly rose. “How did it happen?”

“I promised I would catch her.” His gaze came up slowly. “And I didn’t. She fell.” He staggered through the lab, stopping to lean against the glass doors that led to the landing pad. “I watched her fall. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it. A week later, I drove my car off a cliff. Now they don’t let me drive. Open.” He leaned back and looked up. “JARVIS, open.”

The doors slid apart. 

Loki trailed behind him as Tony stumbled out onto the platform. The eastern sky was beginning to brighten. “Two hundred feet.” 

Loki hastened to get to him. “Tony?”

“This is higher, actually. But then, she fell into a massive inferno. Maybe that evens things out.”

Loki grabbed his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Go back inside.”

He shook his head, tightening his grip on Tony’s hand. 

Tony tried to pull away. “You’re not going to want to see this.”

“You’ll take me with you, or you won’t go at all.”

Tony rolled his eyes.

“I’m with you, Anthony.”

He winced at the use of his full first name. “It’s been almost a year. I can’t take another. And another after that. I can’t just keep drinking and pushing people away.”

“Then don’t. By all means, stop doing those things.”

Tony looked toward the edge. “All that armor doesn’t offer any protection at all.” His voice cracked.

“Please come inside.” Loki pulled gently. 

Tony pulled back.

“Will one of your suits catch you? Like when I threw you out the window? I am sorry about that, by the way.”

“Only if I call it. So I guess I could change my mind up until the last minute.”

“Please change your mind now.” Loki latched onto his wrist with both hands. “You have friends. You have people who love you. I -- I believe in you. You stopped me. You saved your stupid world. You beat the Chitauri. You’re Iron Man. You can do anything. Don’t do this.”

“I have friends,” Tony muttered. He reached up with his free hand and tapped the device in his ear. “JARVIS, call Barton.”

Tony glanced down. “You can stop holding my hand.”

“No.”

“Stark?” Clint’s voice came through the comm. “Everything okay?”

“Can you talk a minute?”

Loki caught himself holding his breath.

“I need to know how you got through the anniversary of Phil’s death.” Tony swallowed hard. 

“Not alone,” Clint’s answer was immediate. 

“But how?”

“Are you alone right now?”

Tony shook his head.

“Tony? What are you doing right now?”

“Sorry, I shook my head. I’m out on the landing pad with Loki.” He tried twisting his hand out of Loki’s grasp again. “What did you do? About Phil?”

“I hung out with Nat and talked about him and how great he was and how much it sucked that he was gone. And admittedly, I drank probably more than I should have. And I didn’t sleep. It was the day before Loki showed up at the tower. Remember? I was awake when the power went out.”

“I guess I didn’t realize. I was busy having flashbacks of collapsing wormholes and the vast blackness of space crushing in on me. And not sleeping. And watching the coverage of Slattery’s trial.”

“Touche. So maybe it wasn’t totally healthy, but I got through it. Nat stayed sober and strong and let me just turn into a total disaster for twenty four hours and then the worst of it was over, at least for that day. Don’t isolate yourself, Tony. That’s the worst thing you could do. It’ll get easier. It’ll never get easy. But easier.” He paused. “And if you let yourself, maybe you’ll find someone who can make it easier for you.”

“I know you’re working,” Tony said. “I won’t keep you. Romanoff promised me you’d throw Slattery in the deepest, darkest hole possible.”

“Shit,” Clint whispered. The comm still picked it up. “I can neither confirm nor deny the parameters of my mission.”

“Try to come home for Christmas, okay?” Tony disconnected the call.

“Well?” Loki prompted.

“He said to stop pushing people away. Just like you said. Just like Romanoff said.”

“Pepper helped design this tower, didn’t she?”

Tony nodded.

“Her legacy shouldn’t be your grave. Come now, it’s cold out.”

Tony allowed himself to be led back inside.

***

“I’m sorry about last night.”

Natasha snickered. “If I had a nickle for every time I’ve heard that.” She shook her head. “Well, I wouldn’t need your funding.”

“I was really out of line.” Tony stepped into her path as she entered the lab. “Please accept my apology.”

“Fine, I accept.”

“How’s Bruce?”

Natasha shrugged a duffle off her shoulder. “He asked me to pick up a few things for him. Clothes, toiletries, his laptop.”

Tony glanced sadly at the slim machine, sitting next to his tablet. “He’s not coming back then.”

“Not immediately.”

“I never meant to hurt anyone. Least of all him.”

“If I had a nickle for every time I heard that.” She shot a cold glance in Loki’s direction. “Regardless of what you meant, he’s hurt.” Her tone softened. “I’ll tell him you asked about him.”

“Tell him he’s invited to the Christmas party.”

“I’ll try to get him to come.”

***

“Thanks.” Bruce took the bag. “How’s Tony?”

“He asked about you. Wants you to come to the Christmas party. Hasn’t stopped drinking. Hasn’t called the therapist I prescreened for him.”

“So he’s the same.”

Natasha grimaced. “He’s drinking less,” she hedged.

“He doesn’t change anything but he expects things to change.” Bruce fell into a chair. 

“Things are changing. Steve’s apartment hunting. I give it three months before Clint moves out to live with Bobbi. You’re here. Everything’s changing. Except Tony, maybe.”

“I’ll come to the party.” 

“Do what’s best for you, Bruce.”   
He leaned back, tipping the front legs of the chair off the ground. “How many chances do you give someone?”

***

Coffee. Bacon. A cinnamon roll. “Good morning, Miss Romanova. I’d like permission to serve you.”

“You have my permission.” She took the food from him. 

There was a spring in his step as Loki entered the apartment. He found a basket of laundry in the bedroom and started with that. When she was finished eating, he wiped up crumbs and washed the dishes. He hadn’t anticipated that she would watch, but Natasha stood in the doorway, arms folded over her chest as though his scrubbing countertops was the most fascinating thing in the world. 

“How are you?” he asked as he worked.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she admitted. 

He started at the top of the kitchen, dusting cabinets and polishing the handles. By lunch, he was sweeping the floor. 

“Tuna salad, sliced tomatoes, on wheat bread.”

Loki paused a moment. “Yes. Of course. May I join you?”

“Not today. Make my lunch and go. Tomorrow’s laundry day.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas.

"Rhodey!” Tony threw one arm around his old friend.  
“Tony!” Rhodey looked him up and down. “You look good.”  
“Try not to sound so surprised when you say that.” He patted Rhodey on the shoulder.  
“It is a little bit of a surprise.” He held Tony at arm’s length. “I know things have been rough.”  
“Yeah, hey have you met Darcy?”  
***  
“Enjoying the party?” Loki asked.  
“This is the eighth time I’ve heard Jingle Bells, I’m pretty sure that’s a violation of the Geneva Convention.” Natasha forced a smile. “Would you get me another glass of wine?”  
“I’d pull down the moon if you asked for it.”  
She turned her head to stare at him. “Just the wine please.”  
Loki slunk away to get her drink. Natasha made her way over to Bruce and Steve.  
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”  
“I wasn’t sure I would either,” Bruce admitted.  
“I was pretty sure I wouldn’t, but here I am. How is he?” Steve asked.  
She shrugged. “I don’t know, why don’t you go talk to him?”  
“Last time I talked to him, he threw things at me.”  
“And what? You didn’t bring your shield?”  
Bruce snickered. “Is he, uh --” He mimed tipping back a drink.   
“Tonic water and lemon. He’s doing really well so far.”  
“I guess that’s progress,” Steve remarked. “Hey, Thor made it. I’m gonna go say hi.” He gave Bruce and Natasha a half-wave and strode across the room to greet Thor.   
Natasha looked at Bruce with that half-smile that seemed to hide at the corner of her mouth. She tilted her head subtly towards Tony. “Go on.”  
***  
“What’s in the flask?”  
Tony jumped, looking at Bruce with wide eyes. “Uh, nothing.” He glanced at the engraved silver flask, half hidden by his jacket and offered a weak approximation of a smile.  
Bruce pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded tersely, turning away.  
“Vodka. I’m trying, okay? It’s a party, people drink at parties.”  
“Then maybe you shouldn’t’ve thrown one.”  
Tony sighed. “You don’t know how hard it is.”  
“Right.” Bruce looked over his shoulder at him. “I don’t know anything about self-control.”  
“I’m having a drink. I’m not getting drunk,” he argued.   
“You’re not quitting.” He turned to face Tony head on. “You’re not getting help, you’re not committing to change. You’re cutting back just enough to get everyone off your case so you can go back to drinking as much as you want.”  
“I’m making an effort.” Tony’s voice was meek.  
“Calling the therapist is an effort. Going to a meeting is an effort. Getting rid of the liquor by any means other than drinking it, is an effort. You’re making a gesture.”  
Tony upended the flask, dumping its contents onto the floor.   
“And now you’re making a mess.” Bruce sighed. “Good night, Tony.”  
“You’re leaving?”  
“I have to.” He ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “Because, Tony, I love you but I can’t do this. I can’t sit by and watch you destroy yourself. I won’t. I’m out.” His fingers splayed wide as he gestured.   
“Wh-what?” Tony’s hands shook. “No. Wait. I’ll quit. Like, quit quit.” He set the glass aside.  
“You can’t quit for me, that never works.” Bruce shook his head. “Merry Christmas. I hope you get the help you need.”  
“What did you mean when you said you love me?” His voice went shrill, and Tony cleared his throat. “Bruce?”  
Bruce glanced at the crowd and shifted his weight, his head dropping so that his curls fell across his eyes. “I meant that I love you. But I’d rather walk away than watch you self-destruct.” He shuffled away, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He shouldered the door open, strains of Winter Wonderland following him into the stairwell.   
Tony stared at the door long after it had closed. “Get rid of it,” he whispered. He blinked twice, refocusing his eyes. “All the alcohol. Unopened bottles can probably be donated somewhere. Anything opened, just pour it out. We’ll get all the fish in the East River drunk. I want it all gone.” He looked at Natasha. “You still have that therapist’s number?”  
“I do.”   
A crease appeared in his brow. “Will you call? First available appointment, any day, any time.”  
***  
Tony invited all the same folks from the Christmas party to his New Year’s eve bash, plus his therapist -- who didn’t come -- and four people from Alcoholics Anonymous -- who did.   
Tony drifted at the edges of the room with a glass of water in his hand. “Did he say if he was coming?”  
Natasha shifted her weight, scanning the room. “He said probably not.”  
He looked down at the glass, passing it from his left hand to his right. “I really screwed this up, didn’t I?”  
“Focus on getting better,” she advised. “When he does come back, shock him with how well you’re doing.”  
“Yeah. You interested in making Loki jealous?”  
She chuckled. “I’m not kissing you when the ball drops.”  
“Worth a shot.” Tony smiled.   
“He might.” Natasha raised one eyebrow at him and tipped her head toward Loki.   
It was Tony’s turn to chuckle, looking down at the floor as his cheeks darkened. “I’m pretty sure he was only hitting on me before to keep me from doing something stupid.”  
“Falling for his flattery is something stupid.” All traces of mirth had vanished from her face.   
“I’m gonna mingle.”   
The small group crowded around the big screen tv. Times Square appeared on the screen. They coupled; Thor stood near Jane, Tom and Max from the AA group, Darcy positioned herself optimally close to Steve. Natasha kept her distance from Loki.   
Ten. Nine. Eight.  
Tony began to inch away from the crowd.  
Seven. Six. Five.  
People gazed into their lovers’ eyes.   
Four. Three. Two.  
A strong pair of arms wrapped around Tony.  
One.  
He looked into Rhodey’s face, squeezed his eyes shut, and fell into the hug.   
“Happy New Year, pal.”  
“Thanks.” He patted Rhodey on the back. “You too.”  
***  
Four seconds ticked by on the clock before Natasha realized she was holding her breath. She forced it out slowly between pursed lips.   
“You’re in Avengers Tower,” JARVIS said at his lowest volume.   
She gasped, muscles jerking. “Shit.”  
“The time is two oh four am.” A dim light began radiating from the baseboards of the room. “The date is January ninth, two thousand fourteen.”  
“Thank you, JARVIS.” Natasha shuffled to her closet and found one of Clint’s hoodies and a pair of slippers. She ran her fingers through her hair.   
The elevator took her up one floor to Clint’s quarters, but as she started to get out, Jarvis spoke again.  
“Agent Barton has not yet returned from his visit with Agent Morse.”  
Natasha froze. A smile slowly broke across her face. “Barton, you sly dog you.” She chuckled to herself. “Is, um, anyone awake?” She stepped back into the elevator.  
“Mister Stark is working in the lab, shall I take you up?”  
“Anyone else?”  
The elevator door slid shut silently.  
“Loki.”  
Natasha grimaced. “Take me to the lab.”   
The elevator rose to the top floor of the tower. The bass of Tony’s music rattled walls before the doors even opened. Natasha cringed as the cacophony spilled into the elevator.  
“How can you think with that much noise?”   
Tony looked up and grinned. “How can anyone think without it?” He waved one hand in the air and the volume dropped.   
“What are you working on?” She approached the workbench with cautious curiosity.  
“Um.” He looked at the workbench. “Well, it’s sort of an alternative to the Iron Legion. Low-powered weapons systems, high-powered sensors; it’s designed less for combat and more for search-and-rescue operations.” Tony glanced at the clock, and a line creased his brow. “Up late or up early?”  
“Up early. I slept a few hours.”  
“Why so little?” He leaned against the workbench, eyes sweeping over the chaos.   
Natasha shrugged. “Sleep deprivation was an important part of my training.”  
“Sleep deprivation is a method of torture, not training.” Tony fired back quickly.   
Her eyes widened slightly, and she shifted her weight away from him. “Withstanding torture is part of the training.”  
“You mind if I work while we talk?” He picked up a stylus.   
“Clint’s spending the night at a girl’s place.”  
Tony snorted softly. “Dammit, somebody in this place should be happy. Might as well be him I guess.” He drew directly onto the wireframes projected over the workbench, touching lines here and there, moving and tweaking. “So we’re not going to talk about your insomnia?”  
“What’s there to talk about?”   
He shrugged. “How about why you’re awake at two thirty in the morning?”  
“You’re awake too,” she observed pointedly.   
“See? I don’t make everything about me, other people make everything about me.” He set the stylus down and closed the projection with a gesture. “You have nightmares.”  
“Everyone does.”  
“I’m not talking about the naked-and-late-for-a-test-in-school stuff. Or the one where all your teeth fall out.” He frowned at her. “Yours are real. Real things that you really lived through.”  
“You never really showed up naked for a test?”  
“Please.” Tony chuckled. “Like I showed up for tests.”  
She cocked an eyebrow. “You were a good student. Your conflict with authority figures didn’t extend beyond your relationship with your father until after his death.”  
Tony’s smile evaporated. “I always kind of forget that you spied on me.” He retreated to get a bottle of water from the fridge.  
“SHIELD spied on you. I wasn’t even working for them back when you were in school.” Her teeth shone, too white under the lights of the lab. “You could use the tap for that. The tower has better water quality than ninety-eight percent of the world.”  
“You made that statistic up. Are you a genius?”   
She snickered. “You can’t tell?”  
“Obviously you’re not on my level -- no offense -- or Bruce’s. But you are smart. Or at least, you aren’t an idiot.”  
“I’m not a genius. Make me a cup too.”  
Tony added another scoop of grounds to the filter. The machine hissed and gurgled. Brown liquid dribbled into the pot.   
“I miss Bruce.” He set two cups next to the coffee maker and sighed.  
“He misses you.” She moved in closer and touched Tony’s arm lightly. “You’re the reason he stayed after Manhattan.”  
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t.” Tony fiddled with one of the mugs. “I’m good at fixing machines. Not relationships. How do I fix this?” He looked to Natasha for an answer.  
“What does he want or need that you could offer him?”  
Tony frowned. “Wow, that sounds manipulative.”  
“You asked for my advice.” She reached past him and grabbed the coffee pot. “If you care about him, at all, you should be asking how you can make him happier.” She filled both mugs. “Maybe that is manipulative, but the alternative is selfish.”  
“He wants to get rid of the Hulk, but I can’t help him with that. I don’t even think that should be a goal for him.” He picked up a coffee and took a sip. “I guess I’m an asshole for being judgemental about his goals.”  
Natasha gently blew on the surface of her coffee. “Now this is where you get manipulative. How do you get him to want what you want?” A smile began to form on her lips. “You want him to accept that part of himself. We need a training exercise, an opportunity for Hulk to be a hero. We need to build a better relationship there.”  
“He’s destructive and unpredictable, we can’t--”  
Natasha cut him off with a wave. “Too much negativity. If you don’t trust the Other Guy, it won’t work.” She inhaled the aroma from the cup. “We’ve got to show Bruce that he can be trusted.”  
“How?”  
Natasha slitted her eyes in a scowl that made Tony take a step back. “I don’t know, maybe you do some of the work here.”  
Tony sipped coffee while he thought. He picked up a pen and began clicking it compulsively. “He’s got the whole turning into the Hulk thing pretty well under control. But I’d say he has little to no control over what Hulk does and little to no control over turning back. But Hulk likes me. He saved me after the portal closed. Maybe I can work with that.”  
Natasha nodded. “Keep talking.”  
He set both the cup and then pen down, gesturing with empty hands. “Maybe, I don’t know, maybe we --” he looked at Natasha pointedly, “can figure out how to convince the Hulk to give control back to Bruce after a fight.”  
“Let me do a little reading on post-hypnotic suggestions.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgiveness. A 30,000 word excuse to fuck Loki in the ass. 
> 
> Explicit.

“Natasha tells me you’ve been going to AA meetings.” Bruce stopped at the threshold of the lab and scuffed his feet across the tile.  
“Four nights a week.” Tony set aside his tablet and stood up. “And therapy, and I’ve even started exercising. Well, that was a New Year’s resolution, so give it another week.” He swallowed and rubbed his jaw. He’d only recently rid himself of the stubble that had taken over his face, shaving it back to the familiar, manicured goatee. Bruce was sporting slightly more than a five o’clock shadow, and Tony felt the overwhelming urge to brush his cheek against it, whisper in Bruce’s ear, and pull their bodies close together.  
“I don’t want to be guy--”  
“Natasha and I have been--”  
They both tried to speak at the same time and fell silent.  
“You first,” Tony said.  
Bruce crept into the lab, one hesitant step at a time, as though the floor might fall away from beneath his feet. “I don’t want to be the guy who issues ultimatums. I don’t want, well, I don’t anything that we have together: a friendship, a relationship, even our work, to be contingent upon --”  
“I didn’t quit drinking for you.” His voice was immediately sharper than he’d wanted it to be, and Tony winced at his own words. “I needed to quit for me. You just maybe helped me to see that. I mean, it’s been a month, and I haven’t relapsed. At all. And I haven’t been holding my breath for you to come back either. I mean, I’m glad you’re back. I -- I’m just glad you’re back. Are you? Back? I mean, are you staying or is this just a visit? Or?” He forced himself to stop talking.  
“I’d like to come back.” A gentle smile crossed his face.  
“You left to get away from my drinking, which I guess was fair. You gotta do what you gotta do. But I quit. So there’s no reason not to come back.”  
Bruce’s smile expanded, bringing a twinkle to his eyes. “So, what are we working on?”  
***  
“I thought I might take you out to dinner tonight.” His eyes shone brightly, an earnest smile on his face. “I’ve made a reservation for Valentine’s Day.”  
“A reservation?” Natasha echoed.  
“I made it months ago, actually, and just never got around to cancelling it.” A light, quick chuckle bubbled up behind his smile. He scratched his palm lightly with his thumbnail.  
She looked at the clock and sighed. “What time is the reservation?”  
“Seven.”  
“That doesn’t give me much time to get ready.”  
Loki smiled crookedly. “You look incredible right now, how long could it possibly take?”  
She scoffed. “You have no idea. Come back in half an hour.”  
***  
They were seated in a booth, tucked in the corner of the restaurant.  
“How long do you intend to keep this up?” Natasha asked as she browsed the menu.  
“As long as necessary, I suppose. Until you forgive me.” He smiled at her. “Forever.”  
Natasha took an envelope from her purse. “I have an errand I’d like you to do right after dinner. I’ll take a cab back to the tower.”  
Loki accepted the envelope -- by now he’d learned to expect a list and enough cash to cover the contents -- and pocketed it. “Anything for you.”  
“Once that’s done, I think that’s enough. This has gone on long enough.”  
“Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?” He leaned in.  
Natasha rubbed her forehead at the hairline and stared at the linen tablecloth. “We’ll see.”  
***  
Loki knocked on the door, his whole face beet red. “Is this your idea of a joke?” He thrust the black shopping bag toward her.  
Natasha accepted the parcel with wide-eyed false innocence. “Not at all.” She opened the bag and peered inside. She looked up at him, a smirk overtaking her lips. “Will you yield to me?”  
His jaw dropped, eyes growing wide.  
She’d changed clothes since dinner. Tight leather pants. Staggeringly high heels. A sheer blouse displaying the lacy red bra beneath.  
“You’re released from your self-imposed servitude,” she reminded him. “You don’t have to say yes.”  
He’d felt unclean just stepping into the seedy shop. He glanced at the unmarked black plastic sack. It contained two sets of velvet soft restraints with buckles and velcro for quick release, a harness of narrow faux-leather straps, a silicone dildo that fitted into the harness, and bottles of lubricant and cleanser. Loki frowned but nodded.  
“Are you sure?” Natasha asked.  
“Will you stop if I ask you to?”  
“Of course.” She reached out and caressed his jaw tenderly. “You’re safe here. In fact, let’s give you a safeword.”  
“I can’t just say stop?” He smiled weakly.  
“Tap. Like when we’re sparring. Just say the word tap.”  
“Tap. Couldn’t I just actually tap?” He patted his chest lightly.  
Natasha smirked. “You did pick up the restraints, didn’t you?”  
Loki cleared his throat. “I yield to you.” His voice came out strong and clear.  
“JARVIS, security and privacy.” Natasha strolled to the bedroom.  
Loki took a deep breath and followed.  
Natasha clipped together the restraints, running the straps under the mattress and arranging the cuffs on her bed for later use. She peeled the seal off the lube and shot Loki a wicked grin. “Take the toy into the bathroom and give it a quick wash before we get started.”  
His hands shook as he got the dildo out of its packaging. It was slightly smaller than what nature had blessed him with, the color a pale, almost-flesh-like pink. It felt heavy and extremely firm in his hands. He grabbed the bottle of toy cleaner and hurried into the bathroom.  
“No different from washing a cucumber,” he muttered.  
“You’re not going to slice that up and put it on a salad.” Natasha leaned against the doorframe, smirking.  
He patted the toy dry and handed it to her, staring at the floor. He followed her back into the bedroom where he stripped off his shirt. Loki crossed one arm over his naked chest, rubbing the opposite shoulder.  
“Slow down, I want to help you with that.” Natasha stood the dildo on end on the nightstand. She sauntered over to him. “Arms down,” she cooed, touching his hand lightly. “Let me see that beautiful body.”  
“What are you doing?” His cheeks warmed.  
“Objectifying you. Just a little.” She raked her gaze over his chest without wincing at his scars. “How’s it feel?”  
“It’s kind of fun, actually.” A smile flickered over his lips.  
Natasha grinned. She pulled him down for a kiss. And another.  
He breathlessly fumbled off her shirt and cupped her breasts greedily, relishing the texture of lace against his palms.  
“Slow,” Natasha exhaled the word like an autumn breeze.  
“I want to touch you.”  
“This isn’t about what you want,” she reminded him.  
Loki pressed his hands to his sides. His nails dug into his palms.  
Natasha rocked her stance back, leaning her weight away from him. She looked him up and down. “Undress for me.”  
He faltered a moment, then knelt to remove his shoes.  
“Mmm. I like you on your knees,” Natasha purred. She cocked her hands on her hips.  
He stayed there, spreading his knees and resting his weight on his feet as he slowly unfastened his pants. He wiggled them down as far as he could, leaning back into a wanton pose before he had to shift position to get them off.  
She sat on the edge of the bed, unhooking her bra. He watched raptly as the straps slipped down her arms, the cups sinking off to reveal her breasts. “Crawl over here and take my shoes off.”  
Goosebumps prickled over his skin. He crawled with his head bowed. Huddled on the carpet, he cradled her foot in his hands as he unbuckled the strap of her shoe and slipped it off. He lingered a moment, caressing the delicate arch of her foot before moving to the other. She dropped her bra onto the carpet next to him.  
Natasha beckoned him with one finger and he rose, catlike, staying close to her body. His arousal grew with every word and gesture. She leaned back, her finger urging him to join her on the mattress. He laid next to her, not quite touching, and she ran her hand down his arm, lifting his hand. She positioned his fingers against the pull of her zipper.  
“Pinch it,” she said.  
His fingers grasped the tiny bit of metal.  
“Pull it.” Her low voice left no room for argument.  
He pulled, gently parting the metal teeth, so slow it was nearly inaudible. His throat had gone dry.  
As she eased her body out of the tight-fitting leather, his prick came fully to attention. She kissed him again and briefly straddled him as she crossed to the opposite side of the bed. Loki swallowed as he watched her buckle the harness, strapping the dildo on securely. The red lace of her underwear peeking around the leather straps burned into his visual memory.  
Natasha stood next to the bed. She stretched, reaching her hands up to the ceiling. Loki was mesmerized by the shape and movement of her breasts. She folded her hands behind her head. “Come over here and suck my dick.” She shook her hips so that the dildo waved slightly.  
Loki scrambled to obey. He skidded to his knees fast enough to get rug burn. His tongue snaked out to touch the head of the toy.  
A frown danced over his face. “You can’t even feel it.”  
Natasha rolled her eyes and dropped her arms to her sides. “It’s psychological.” She tapped him under the chin. “Don’t ruin the moment.”  
Loki licked the head of the dildo trepidatiously. “Can I touch you?”  
“Earn it.”  
He wet his lips with his tongue. He laved the toy with long strokes before taking it into his mouth.  
“Mmmm,” Natasha moaned. “Oh. That’s nice.”  
Loki sucked, bobbing his head along the length with a slurping sound.  
“You look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock,” Natasha murmured.  
He tucked his wrists between his knees, pinning them to avoid temptation. He hummed in the back of his throat, looking up to be rewarded with her smile.  
“Such a good little cock-sucker.” She stroked his hair.  
He whimpered around the dildo.  
“Such a sweet mouth. You can touch.”  
His hands flew up and clasped her hips, pulling her closer so he could take the entirety of the toy in his mouth. He gagged a little on his enthusiasm.  
“Oh!” Natasha moaned.  
Smooth leather and rough lace met his fingers. He traced the patterns of the lace, kneading the flesh of her butt as he deep throated the dildo.  
Her grip on his hair tightened, and she slowly dragged the toy out of his mouth, leaving a glistening strand of saliva from the its tip to his lips. “Mmm, silver tongued indeed.”  
He stared up at her, eyes huge and dark, mouth hanging agape.  
“Lay down.” She cut her eyes toward the bed. “Face up.”  
Loki nodded his acknowledgment. He stretched out on the mattress, the sheets cool against his skin. His heart fluttered in his chest like a captive bird.  
“Spread your legs for me.” She prowled up the bed on her hands and knees, kneeling between his thighs. “Good.”  
Loki blinked slowly.  
She trailed her fingernails up his chest; the dildo brushed against his cock as she leaned forward, covering him with her body. She reached past him, snatching the bottle of lube off the nightstand. Natasha's breasts pressed against his chest; her hair tickled his neck. Her breath rolled up against the cup of his ear as she whispered, “You were made to be ruled.”  
He trembled.  
She kissed the side of his neck, lips soft. She nibbled at his earlobe, teeth sharp. Her mouth, both soft lips and sharp teeth, meandered over his body, mapping the taste of his skin.  
He moaned quietly, surrendering to her ministrations. Her tongue swirled over the head of his cock, flicking into the slit. He released a shuddering sigh as she took him into her mouth.  
She dripped lube onto her fingers and lightly stroked the taut entry of his anus.  
A jolt of tension shot through him. Natasha didn't instruct him to relax; she used no words at all, lavishing more attention on his straining prick. She continued her gentle but persist caress against his backdoor, gradually increasing pressure as he relaxed.  
Loki’s hands fisted in the sheets, twisting the bedding. He gazed down at her. She finally worked one finger into him, and he sighed in pleasure.  
“Yes.”  
Patient. Gentle. Natasha dribbled more lube over her fingers and eased him up to two, licking and sucking his cock, running her tongue over the sensitive glans. He groaned, hips bucking needfully.  
She took him all the way to the root as her third finger stretched him. He clenched his eyes shut, shuddering.  
“Oh. Oh, that’s beautiful,” he whimpered. “More.”  
His cock slid out of her mouth with a pop, the taste of precum salty on her lips.  
“Do you want me to fuck you?” She gave his cock a gentle squeeze with her free hand.  
Loki nodded. “Yes,” he gasped.  
“Say it,” Natasha demanded.  
“I want you to fuck me,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “I want your cock in my ass.”  
“That sounds good.” She smiled. “You sure?”  
“Please.” A whining moan escaped him as she withdrew her fingers.  
She guided his wrist up to one of the cuffs.  
Loki twitched. “I don't suppose we could skip the restraints?”  
“You’re doing so good.” She bent down to kiss his lips tenderly. “But I’m afraid it’s all or nothing. We can stop here, maybe try again some other night. It’s okay.”  
“No.” His voice was tight. “No, I want this. Do it. Tie me up. Tie me down. I don't care. I want it. I want you to fuck me.”  
She was smiling. “You do have a way with words.” She wrapped the cuff around his wrist, smoothing the Velcro together. “How's that?”  
He offered her the other wrist.  
“Is it okay?” She toyed with the second cuff while she waited for his answer.  
Loki nodded shakily. “It's good. Is this how you want me? Face up?”  
Natasha smiled as she bound his other wrist. “Oh yes. I want to see that gorgeous face of yours when you come all over my nice hard cock.”  
That wide-eyed look of adulation crossed his face again.  
She ran her hands down his arms, nails light over his ribs. She settled her weight on her haunches. “I’ll compromise. I’ll leave your legs unbound.”  
“Thank you,” Loki replied instantly.  
“So you’ve learned some manners,” she remarked, pouring lube into her palm. As she oiled the toy, she matched the movement on his dripping prick, stroke for stroke, one hand on each.  
Loki moaned, his hips rising to meet her touch. She pooled more lube onto her fingers and slipped them back into him, making sure he was slick and ready.  
He groaned, his lashes fluttering as his head fell back, eyes rolling in his head.  
He looked at her as she pulled her fingers out and pressed the head of the dildo against his anus.  
“There it is.” She slid the head past the tight sphincter.  
A high-pitched moan slipped past his parted lips.  
“That’s it, sweetheart, I know you can take it.” Her hips rocked forward, pressing in deeper.  
“Oh, yes, yes,” Loki murmured. “I can. I will. I want it.” His voice cracked.  
Just as with her fingers, Natasha was patient, working the toy into him with slow strokes, letting his body adjust to being filled.  
“More,” he panted.  
He could do little more than gasp and moan as she picked up her pace. She leaned over him, bracing herself with one hand while continuing to pump his dick with the other.  
“That’s so good. You’re so tight, so hot,” Natasha moaned. “My sweet prince, you just love being fucked by me, don’t you?”  
“Yes,” he answered in a high, strained voice. “I love you. I love it.” His arms twisted and pulled against the soft cuffs as his body tensed then released. Loki came with a keening cry, spurting over his belly and her hand.  
She slowed, squeezing the last drops from him as she pulled back and carefully out.  
He shivered, whimpering.  
“You did so good,” she cooed, stripping off the harness as quickly as she could with slick fingers. She wiped her hand on the edge of the sheet. “I’m proud of you.” She set the toy aside, still tangled in the straps. She tucked herself in next to him and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “How are you doing?”  
“So good,” Loki murmured. His breath slowed. He gazed at her with heavy-lidded eyes. “Thank you.”  
A smile curled over her lips. “Let me get those.” She reached up, opening the velvet cuffs.  
He brought his arms down around her and pulled her into a kiss. “Goddess.”  
“Mortal. Mere mortal,” Natasha replied.  
“Let me worship you anyway.” He ducked his head down, nuzzling her neck. His eyes brightened as he gazed up at her. “Please.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Would you allow me to attempt to repay the favor?”  
Natasha tucked her lower lip between her teeth. Creases formed at the corners of her eyes. She shifted her weight away from him slightly.  
“I want to beg you to accept.” He ran his fingers over the curve of her hip. “Flatter your beauty, sing your praises, and promise you delights. But I, uh, I won’t press the matter.”  
She tilted her head. “You have learned something.”  
“Right now, I feel more at peace than I think I ever have.” Loki relaxed back into the mattress. “I have you to thank. I must content myself with thanking you by respecting your boundaries.”  
“Let me get you cleaned up.” Natasha sat up.  
His head lolled to the side, watching as she strolled to the bathroom, taking the toy with her. She returned quickly. He sighed as she gently wiped the rapidly-cooling semen off his skin.  
“That was incredible.When you asked me to yield to you, I thought you’d hurt me. Degrade me, at least. When you came up with a safeword, I thought I was in real trouble.” He chuckled. “You are full of surprises.”  
She glanced at him without turning her head and half-smiled. “If you don’t find fellating a piece of silicone degrading, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”  
A veil of pink appeared on his cheeks. “It was a little,” he admitted. “But you made it less so.”  
“There’s as much power in pleasure as there is in pain. Sometimes more, especially in the more puritanical cultures,” Natasha mused. She tossed the washcloth into a basket of laundry near the bathroom door.  
“You treated me far better than I treated you, and probably better than I deserve.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Certainly better than I deserve.”  
Natasha chuckled and laid down next to him, shaking her head. She ran her hand down the scar on his chest until he caught her by the wrist.  
He looked over at her, suddenly quite serious. “I’m sorry that I tried to change you to better suit my desires. You’re perfect just as you are.” He released her hand and ghosted his fingers up the front of her thigh. “Is it a definite no? You’ve made up your mind?” His tongue touched the center of his upper lip.  
“I’ve made up my mind.” She stared into his eyes. “You said you wouldn’t press.”  
He swallowed and nodded. “I’m sorry. May I stay?”  
“I’d like that.” Natasha nodded.  
Loki curled up against her, his breathing slow and steady. “I meant it,” he whispered.  
She combed her fingers through his hair. “Hm?”  
“It wasn’t a slip of the tongue in the heat of the moment. I meant it when I said I love you.” His arms tightened around her. “And I know you said no more serving you, but I want to make you breakfast in the morning.” Loki yawned.  
“Omelettes,” Natasha replied. “I’ve got eggs I need to use up before they go bad.”  
“Anything you desire.”  
***  
  



	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life begins to settle back into some semblance of normal, just in time for the events of Captain America: the Winter Soldier

Loki opened his eyes to an empty bed. Rumpled sheets. The indentation on the pillow. He rolled over with a frown. Light spilled out from under the bathroom door. The sound of water running droned. He stretched, cracked his neck, and padded to the bathroom. His hand alighted on the knob. He gave it a tentative twist, and it opened. 

Brilliant light and fragrant steam greeted him as he entered the bathroom. He pulled the door shut behind him. He used the toilet but didn’t flush, not wanting to disrupt the temperature of the shower. 

A blurred silhouette moved behind the sheer curtain. He touched the vinyl, pulling it away from the wall to peer past the barrier. 

Natasha leaned against the tiled wall of the shower, her eyes closed, her hand between her legs. She worried her lower lip with her teeth. Her hips rocked forward into her touch. 

A private moment. He shouldn’t intrude. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

She slid down the wall a few inches as her knees went weak. He watched with great interest as she stroked and caressed, little gasps and moans nearly drowned out by the falling water. Her breath hitched and caught. Tendons stood out as her body tensed. She jerked, a string snapping under too much strain. The breath she’d been holding escaped in a soundless sigh. She panted and trembled; her hand fell to her side. 

Loki cleared his throat.

Her eyes snapped open, and she straightened away from the wall. 

“May I join you?” 

“I -- I was just getting cleaned up,” Natasha stammered.

“No, you weren’t.” He grinned. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She sidestepped into the spray of the shower, rinsing off her hand. “I just wanted the first one to be mine.”

“Understandable.” He tilted his head, glancing between her legs. “What are your feelings on a second one?”

The tip of her tongue touched the center of her upper lip as she glanced downward. “Come on in and we’ll discuss it.”

“Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.” Loki stepped into the shower stall. 

***

“Do you want to go out after dinner? I was thinking we could hit a bar, play some pool or darts.”

“You don’t want to play billiards against me.” Clint shook his head.

Bobbi shrugged. “I don’t mind losing.”

“It’s not that. Being challenged is part of the fun. Non-moving targets aren’t a challenge.” He took another bite. “No bowling or golf either.”

“Laser tag?” Bobbi waggled her eyebrows. “I’m a moving target.”

He met her gaze and his stomach did a flip. “Sure.”

Her grin spread across her face. 

“We’ll need more than two people for laser tag. How do you feel about a double date? Maybe a triple?” Clint set his phone on the table, tapping the screen. “Did I tell Bruce and Tony are dating now?”

“No. That’s exciting.” Bobbi clapped. 

“This’ll be perfect. I haven’t told Nat about our mission yet, and if I do it in a public place, she can’t kill me.” Clint texted while he spoke. 

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promised.

“On the mission or when I tell Natasha that I’m going to be gone for five months?”

***

“Three on a team, I call Clint.” Bobbi latched onto his arm.

“Then you better either call me or I’m calling Stark,” Natasha replied. 

“No, no. You, me and Bobbi on one team is brutally unfair,” Clint objected. “You can have Stark.”

“I don’t think anyone wants either of us.” Bruce leaned toward Loki. 

“I want you.” Tony looked right at Bruce as he spoke. 

“I guess that means I get Banner too,” Natasha said. “Stark, Banner, and Romanov, aka Team Awesome.”

“Hawkeye.” Bobbi pointed to Clint. “Mockingbird.” She pointed to herself. “He needs a bird-themed code name.” She pointed to Loki.

“Penguin,” Clint answered decisively. He grinned, showing too many teeth.

“No.” Loki frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Come on, Pengy.”

***

A hand closed over his arm, pulling him to the side. Loki’s back hit the wall. He brought up the weapon and looked into the face of his assailant. Natasha pulled him into a kiss. He melted against her lips. His vest vibrated. Their lips parted.

“You shot me.” He gaped at her. 

She smirked and fired again. “All’s fair.” She vanished behind another barrier while he waited for his weapon to come back online.

***

“How many times did you let her shoot you, Penguin?” Clint glared at the scoreboard.

“We should switch up the teams and play again,” Natasha replied.

“Fine. I get Stark this time.”

“Then I get Bobbi.” She smiled deviously. “And Bruce.”

***

“You didn’t shoot Bruce once.” Clint poked Tony’s shoulder.

Tony shrugged. 

“That’s not how teams work in Laser Tag.”

“You and me against the other four,” Natasha declared. “Last round.”

“You guys can have Penguin,” Bobbi offered. 

“My name is Loki.”

“I suppose it’d be more fair to handicap us,” Clint said, looking at Natasha.

“I am not a handicap.”

Clint shot him an unamused look. “You’ve been on my team every time, and every time you’ve gotten shot repeatedly by the redhead, and you’ve shot her zero times.”

“But now he and I are on the same team,” Natasha replied. 

***

“So Bobbi and I have an away mission. Long-term undercover. She wanted me to ask if you’d take care of her fish while we’re gone.” 

Natasha glared at him. “This really isn’t the time.”

“It’ll probably be a few months,” Clint added.

“Where?”

“Classified.” He fired, and across the room, Tony let out a burst of profanity. 

“Where in Classified?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Later, then.” She popped out of her hiding place and shot Bobbi twice. “We should get ice cream after this.”

***

“You don’t have to do this.”

Loki looked up from scrubbing the oven. “I know.”

Natasha leaned against the countertop. “So why are you?” 

He bent into the oven, stretching to reach the back wall. “When I was younger, I had a lover named Andor. Until I met someone I fancied more. I broke things off with him, but he didn’t take it well.”

“How so?” Natasha approached and the sudden proximity of her voice made Loki jump. 

His head tapped the interior of the oven and he leaned back out. 

“He and his brother and one of their friends cornered me in the palace gardens.” He looked up at her, grease smudged across his forehead. “They knocked me around a bit and then the two of them held me down while Andor --” Loki shuddered. He looked down at his hands, the dark brown grime under his nails and smeared across his skin. “He raped me. I’ve never told anyone that.”

A frown etched lines across her forehead. 

Loki cleared his throat. “Got my revenge though.”

“How so?” Natasha’s voice was soft; the lines on brow deepened.

“I bedded his subsequent lovers. Pleased them more thoroughly than he could. Must’ve broken his heart a dozen times.” Loki smiled. “I finally let up when his brother died. It seemed time to let things go, and I didn’t feel right kicking him when he was so far down.” He shifted his weight back. “Clean enough, m’lady?”

She cocked her head, peering in without bending over. “Looks good from here. Wash up, you can join me for lunch.”

Loki closed the oven with his knee, turned the water on with his elbow. 

“I have to admit, I like your style when it comes to revenge.” Natasha watched as he scrubbed his hands.

“Have you got a nail brush?”

“There’s a little pull out at the front of the sink there. That doesn’t really explain why you’re cleaning my oven.”

He found the nail brush and focused on getting the grease out from under his nails. 

“Loki?” Natasha prompted as he shut off the water. 

“It was the first time I’d ever truly considered hurting someone, violently.” He dried his hands. “I thought I could only rid myself of the pain by inflicting it on someone else. But I never quite went through with it. Until Frigga’s death, and you ….” He shook his head. “But the hollow feeling didn’t go away.” Loki folded the towel neatly, hanging it back on its ring above the sink. “I kept escalating. Thinking that maybe I just wasn’t hurting you enough. But the answer wasn’t to hurt you.” He met her gaze, a current of tension running through his body. “The answer was to trust you. To surrender. I feel better when I’m serving you. Better than I’ve felt since before I met him. I feel … good.” 

Natasha blinked slowly and cleared her throat. “Grillled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.”

“I don’t know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich, what is that?”

She smiled faintly. “I’ll show you.”

Natasha pulled a loaf of bread out of the pantry. “Four slices, buttered on one side.” She set a skillet on the stove. 

Loki began buttering the bread. 

“I’ve got a mission,” Natasha said. “I’ll be back in a few days. If I give you the key, can you feed Morse’s fish?”

“Is it dangerous?” He looked up, setting the butter knife down.

“They’re not piranhas.” She threw a bag of shredded cheese at him.

***

“Hey, fellas.” Natasha rolled down the window. “Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.”

Steve scowled. “That’s hilarious.”

His companion gave the car an appreciative once-over, bending down to look through the window. He gave Natasha a bit of a once-over as well. “How you doing?”

“Hey.” Natasha sized him up. Former military. Runner. No girlfriend. 

“Can’t run everywhere,” Steve commented as he got in.

“Who’s your friend?” Natasha asked as she pulled away. 

“His name’s Sam Wilson. He works at the VA.” His brow creased. “He’s a good guy.”

“How long have you known him?” 

He cocked his head to look at the clock on the dashboard. “About half an hour.”

“How are you liking DC?”

“Well, I’m making friends.” Steve smiled. “What’s the mission?”

“We get to fight pirates.”

***

Clint swiped his badge across the scanner. The light turned green, and he opened the door. “Hey Dave.” He raised his coffee cup in greeting.

Dave looked up and tipped his hat. “Hey Charlie. Hope you brought a lot of that coffee. Looks like a long, quiet shift.”

“I like quiet.” Clint set his coffee on the desk and picked up hat with a red and white logo and the words “Paragon Advanced Research” printed on the front. “You got big plans?”

“Yeah, I gotta run, actually, Clara’s got a softball game.”

“Tell her to strike ‘em all out.” He smiled. He brushed his knuckles against Dave’s as the man passed his desk. Once he was alone, Clint set to work checking the computer logs for the day’s activities. 

***

Loki watched the fish. The glow from the tank gave his pale skin a blue tinge. He marveled at his hand a moment before sprinkling a few flakes over the surface of the water. A few of the fish made their way upward. Tiny mouths snatched the flakes out of the water. 

***

Steve stared through the glass at the doctors and nurses, buzzing around Fury like bees at a hive. 

“Is he gonna make it?” Natasha asked softly. 

“I don’t know.”

Natasha swallowed hard. “Tell me about the shooter.”

Steve blinked, calling up the memory. “He’s fast and strong. Had a metal arm.” His gaze flicked to Assistant Director Hill.

“Ballistics?” Natasha asked.

“Three slugs,” Hill answered. “No rifling. Completely untraceable.”

“Soviet-made.” Natasha might have meant the gun, the slugs or the shooter.

“Yeah.”

Chaos in the operating suite distracted them. Beeping. Shouting. Flatlining.

“Don’t do this to me, Nick,” Natasha whispered. “Don’t do this to me, Nick. Don’t do this to me.” Not another one. Not again. 

“Time of death, one oh three a.m.” 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of CAtWS.

“I have a package for Mister Anton.” 

Keith stood. “I got it.” He took the pen and signed on the courier’s clipboard.

“I got a package for you, sweetheart,” Clint said, leering at the courier. 

Bobbi rolled her eyes at him. “You’re funny, Charlie.”

“Looks aren’t everything.”

“I have a boyfriend,” Bobbi informed him, taking the clipboard back from Keith. 

“Lucky guy.”

“Have a nice night.”

Both security guards craned their necks to watch her walk away. 

***

“Standard tac-team,” Steve whispered. “Two behind, two across, two coming straight at us.”

Natasha had seen them too.

“If they make us, I’ll engage. You hit the south escalator to the metro.”

“Shut up and put your arm around me, laugh at something I said,” Natasha instructed.

“What?”

“Do it!” Natasha gave him a sharp look. 

Steve threw his arm over her shoulders and laughed. The agents passed them. They made it to the escalator. 

She shifted her weight as she spotted Rumlow. “Kiss me.”

“What?” Steve’s eyes widened.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.” 

Rumlow was getting closer.

“Yes,” Steve said, “they do.”

Natasha wrapped her hand around the back of Steve’s neck and yanked him in close. She pressed her lips to his. Steve squirmed. Her gaze followed Rumlow through her nearly closed lashes. He looked away. She released Steve. “Still uncomfortable?” 

***

“It’s not exactly a romantic getaway.” Bruce pressed his palms against the edge of the workbench and hopped up onto its surface.

“Next time.” Tony smiled. “It’s safe. We test missiles there. Nothing and nobody for miles and miles.”

“So there’s no one to help you if you get hurt.” Bruce crossed his legs at the ankles and folded his hands in his lap.

“I’m not going to get hurt because you’re not going to hurt me. And--” he tapped his earpiece. “JARVIS can dispatch help within seconds.”

Bruce sighed. “Come here, do the thing again.” He held up his hand. 

***   
“It was him.” Steve spoke softly. “He looked right at me like he didn't even know me.”

Sam frowned. “How’s that even possible? It was like seventy years ago.”

“Zola.” Steve flinched as he said the name. “Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43, Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him, and--”

“None of that’s your fault, Steve.” Natasha leaned back against the wall of the van.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky.”

Natasha blinked slowly. Sam looked at her, a frown etched in his brow.

“We need to get a doctor in here. We don’t put pressure on that wound, she’s gonna bleed out here in the truck.”

***

“We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own.” Fury nodded to the case with the replacement chips.

“One or two won't cut it,” Hill added. “We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational a whole lot of people are gonna die.”

“We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA.” He glanced at Steve. “We need to get past them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left.”

Steve frowned. “We're not salvaging anything. We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down SHIELD.”

“SHIELD had nothing to do with it.

“You gave me this mission, this is how it ends.” Steve leaned toward the table. “SHIELD's been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”

Fury looked around at their surroundings. “Why do you think we're meeting in this cave? I noticed.”

“And how many paid the price before you did?”

Fury flinched. “Look, I didn't know about Barnes.”

“Even if you have, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes.” Steve’s voice left no room for argument.

“He's right,” Hill said.

Fury looked at Natasha. She nodded, once. He looked to Sam. 

“Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower.”

***

Loki dipped the mop into the bucket and lifted it above the water’s surface. He pressed the lever to squeeze out the excess. The mop head plopped onto the kitchen floor. He leaned into the handle. His eyes fell on the roses on the counter, petals dark at the edges. He’d have to bring fresh ones when she came back. A clean apartment and fresh roses. 

***

“So about this boyfriend of yours?” Clint prompted. 

Bobbi smiled, lips clamped together over her teeth, fighting the grin. “He’s pretty fantastic,” she said. 

“Is he better looking than me?” He leaned in close to her. 

“He looks exactly like you. It’s kind of eerie.” 

He pressed a micro card into her palm. “Better make sure he doesn’t see us together.” 

“You brushed your teeth,” she whispered. Her heart pounded at his proximity.

He brushed his lips lightly across hers, and Bobbi surged forward to kiss him. Her eyes opened as their lips parted. “Be careful in there.”

“Be careful out here.”

***

“Let me ask you a question.” Pierce looked at Councilman Singh. “What if Pakistan marched into Mumbai tomorrow, and you knew that they were gonna drag your daughters into a soccer stadium for execution?” He handed the man a glass of champagne. “And you could just stop it with a flick of the switch. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you all?”

Councilman Singh sneered. “Not if it was your switch.” He tossed the glass and lifted his chin at the satisfying sound of it shattering.

Pierce held out his hand, accepting a gun from one of the agents. He leveled the weapon at the councilman. Councilwoman Hawley sprang into action. In moments, she had taken down the HYDRA agents. Her face shimmered, the mask dropped away, and she pulled off her wig. 

“I’m sorry. Did I step on your moment?”

Pierce’s jaw tensed; his eyes bulged. 

Natasha took over the computer, keeping one eye on Pierce as she worked.

“What are you doing?” Councilman Rockwell asked. 

“She’s disabling security protocols and dumping all the secrets onto the Internet.” Pierce watched her fingers fly over the keyboard.

“Including HYDRA’s.” Natasha smiled.

“And SHIELD’s,” Pierce countered. “If you do this none of your past is gonna remain hidden. Are you sure you’re ready for the world to see you as you really are?” 

_ “You’re perfect just as you are.” _

Her crooked half-grin didn’t falter. “Are you?”

Beads of sweat glistened on Pierce’s forehead. “DIsabling the encryption is an executive order. It takes two Alpha Level members.”

“Don’t worry. Company’s coming.” 

***

“Hey there, Big Guy.” The quaver in Tony’s voice betrayed his nerves. 

Hulk growled, shuffling back a step. 

Tony swallowed, blinked, held up one hand. “Sun’s getting real low.”

Hulk prowled nearer. His massive palm dwarfed Tony’s as their hands touched. 

“That’s it. Nice Hulk. Good Hulk.” He stroked the huge, green forearm, repeating the gestures he and Bruce had practiced. 

***

Natasha kept her distance, watching Fury chat with Sam and Steve over his own grave. She waited until he walked away to approach. “You should be honored, that's about as close as he gets to saying thank you.”

Steve didn’t look honored. Neither did Sam. 

“Not going with him?” Steve asked.

“No.” Natasha shook her head.

“Not staying here?”

“I’ll be back. We made kind of a mess. I figure I should start cleaning it up.”

Steve chuckled. “That might take a while.”

“I work fast.” She glanced at the file in her hands. “That thing you asked for, I called in a few favors from Kiev. Will you do one for me?”

Steve accepted the file with shaking hands and looked at her expectantly.

“Just be careful.”

He opened the folder. He stared into Bucky’s eyes in faded greyscale. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Sam?” Natasha looked at him.

“I’ll take good care of him.”

“Of them.” She glanced at the folder before walking away.

***

Loki shoved the screen of his phone into Natasha’s face. 

She craned her neck backwards and glanced at the image of the Triskelion’s ruins. 

“You.”

“Me.” She resumed packing her bag.

“You could’ve been killed!” He slammed the phone down on the table. 

“That’s always a possibility. Right now, I have more pressing concerns.”

“Like the fact that you just spilled all of your secrets to the world and anyone who wishes to harm you will come out of the woodwork?” 

Natasha’s lips stretched in a grimace. “Actually like the fact that our little stunt just blew the cover of dozens of agents all over the world. Including Agents Barton and Morse.”

Loki sighed. “Do you have a plan?”

“I’m just going to go pull them out. Distract, extract, deal with the consequences later.”

He tucked the phone into his pocket. “Do you want any help?”

***

Clint turned his head as much as he could with a strap digging into his forehead. He could sense light through the blindfold. Two separate sources, both in the ceiling. A larger room, then. A shape blocked part of the light. Large, probably male. Strong, calloused hands cupped his jaw. Definitely male. A thick rubber bar was forced between his teeth. Another strap circled around his head. The man moved away. His footsteps made no sound on the hard floor. 

A jolt of pain shot through his body. He might have screamed, if it hadn’t been for the gag. A high-pitched ringing pierced Clint’s ears. He thrashed against the restraints. 

***

“Morse hasn’t reported for work since the data went live.” Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose. 

Loki flipped through the mission packet again. “Her cover was a courier?

“Why didn’t I call them before I did this?”

“You had a lot on your mind, I’m sure.” He squinted at a piece of paper. “Well the obvious candidate is this Paragon Advanced Research, right? I mean, if I found out people were spying on me, I’d deal with them. And who else could’ve picked them up so quickly?”

“Hydra?” Natasha suggested. She sighed. “Alright, I guess the one thing we have going for us is that Paragon doesn’t know we’re coming.”

“Two things going for us,” Loki replied.

She furrowed her brow at him.

“They’re short staffed by one security guard.”

***

“I have a package for Mister Anton.”

The guard paused, blinked, and slowly looked up at her.

Natasha punched him in the face. She jumped over the counter, grabbing his lanyard and pulling it taut around his throat. She pressed her fist between his shoulder blades and discharged the Widow’s Bite. The guard jerked and shuddered. She slipped the lanyard off him and made for the back door to let Loki in. 

He stood facing her six while she worked on the computer. 

“Barton clocked in the day everything went live. Never clocked out.”

“That’s some overtime.” He shifted his weight, palms sweating against the pike. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can access.” Natasha straightened up. “Okay, I need you to sit down and go through the security camera feeds. See if you can spot anyone leaving with Clint or bringing Bobbi in.”

Loki’s brows knit together. “What? No, I’m staying with you. We do this together.”

She patted the back of the chair. “Sit.”

“No.” He squared off his shoulders, drawing himself up as tall as possible. 

“Watch the security feed. Comm me if anyone comes down the stairs.” She brushed past him, stalking down the hall. 

Loki watched until she turned the corner. His gaze fell on the security monitors. She appeared, yanking open a door and vanishing down a staircase. His eyes flicked from one screen to the next, watching her move through the facility. 

“Wait,” he said quietly. 

Natasha froze. A guard passed through the hallway she’d been about to turn down. She listened as his footsteps faded. She turned and looked up at the security camera in the corner. “Thanks.” 

Loki scanned the screens as she opened a door. “There’s no security feed beyond that,” he warned. 

“Then I’m going the right way.” 

The door fell shut behind her, and Loki sighed. “Are we still on comms?”

“I hear you,” she replied.

He tapped his fingers on the desk, watching the door she’d gone through. 

***

“Can you walk?” 

Bobbi’s features pinched together. “I--I think so.” Her hand trembled as she touched her forehead. “My head hurts, but my legs are okay.” 

“Any idea what they’ve done with Clint?” Natasha slipped her arm under Bobbi’s, letting the other woman put her weight across Natasha’s shoulders.

“I heard --” Bobbi’s voice trembled. “I heard screaming.” She pointed down the hall. “I haven’t heard anything in awhile.”

“Breathe,” Natasha whispered. “Steady hands.” She pressed her pistol into Bobbi’s grip. “I’m coming back, so don’t shoot me.”

Bobbi nodded shakily and leaned against the wall for support. 

Natasha headed down the hall in the direction Bobbi had indicated. The door at the end looked heavier than the others, dark and windowless. Natasha tried it and found it locked. She turned her attention to the electronic pad next to the door. She tilted her head to the side. She held the security guard’s badge up the to pad. The light turned from red to green. 

***

“Get down here.”

Loki scrambled to his feet. He grabbed his pike and raced through the door. He took the stairs two at a time. Panting, he reached the door. “I -- I don’t know where to go from here,” he stammered.

“Right, two lefts, a right. Dead end.” Natasha pressed her fingers against the side of Clint’s throat, counting the beats of his heart. Weak. Unsteady. Too fast. Her fingers came back coated in blood. It dripped onto the floor.

Clint’s chest rose and fell. Weak. Unsteady. Too fast. His skin was cold.

Loki hammered on the door. “Natasha!”

One foot in front of the other, she stumbled over to open it. 

Loki stared into her pale face. “Natasha?”

“He’s hurt. I can’t -- I can’t carry him. I think we can move him. Can you?”

He handed her the pike and crossed the room. He knelt and carefully worked his arms under Clint’s limp body. “I, ah, okay, I think this might be a sort of a team effort.” He squirmed and strained. “I think I can carry him, if you can help lift --” Loki paused. “Are you okay?”

“I thought he was dead. When I first saw him, and the blood ….”

Loki glanced down at Clint. “He’s not. He’ll be okay. We’ve got him. We can do this.”

Natasha nodded again, setting the pike aside. “We’ve got to get Bobbi too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the last weekly update for a while, writing has slowed down as work has picked up. Still writing, just slower.


End file.
